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RUBAIYAT    OF    OMAR    KHAYYAM. 

VOLUME    I. 


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Copyright,  1896, 
By  Joseph  Knight  Company. 


SSnibcrsitg  $3rrss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


RUBAIYAT  TO    OMAR  KHAYYAM* 


O  Persian  OMAR!  -would  thou  -wert  alive  again! 
Then  might  -we  surely  see  thee  strive  again 
To  gather  from  the  bitter  flowers  of  Fate 
Sweet  honey  for  our  human  hive  again  ! 

The  stars  still  shine  as  once  they  brightly  shone, 
When,  as  they  watched  thy  terrace,  nightly  shone 

The  answering  flashes  of  thy  love  and  hate, 
And  red  gleams  of  the  -wine-cup  lightly  shone  ! 

The  blood-red  petals  from  the  roses  fall,  as  then  they  did, 
Death  for  us  moderns  like-wise  closes  all,  as  then  it  did  ; 
We  know  not  more  than  thou  didst  know  of  life-to-be  : 
The  ruthless   Wheel  of  Heaven  disposes  all,  as  then  it  did. 

But  thy  example  makes  us  brave  to  face  our  Fate: 
There  may  be  Love  beyond  the  grave  to  grace  our  Fate, 

And  we,  mean-while,  -will  keep  alive  the  glcnu  of  life,  to  be 
Worth  saving,  if  great  ALLAH  deign  to  save,  to  grace  our  Fate. 

And  so  accept  this  volume  as  a  meed  of  praise, 

Alt  ho  thy  Fame,  so  stablished,  hath  no  need  of  praise, 

And  thou  thyself  art  very  far  away  from  its  — 
So  far,  thou  \l'st  not  take  heed  of  blame  or  heed  of  praise. 

A  score  of  zealous  poets  have  translated  thee 

In  tongues  unheard  of  -when  the  Mollahs  hated  thee, 

And  no-w  accept  their  tribute,  and  this  lay  from    us 
For  whom  thy  living  words  have  re-created  thee  ! 

*   In  the  complicated   rimes   of   these   quatrains   there   is   an    attempt   to 
imitate  the  Persian  style. 


CONTENTS    OF   VOLUME    I. 


Page 
Introduction  : 

Sketch  of  Dr.  Hyde x 

"          Sir  Gore  Ouseley xi 

"          Joseph  Freiherr  von  Purgstall    ....  xiv 

"          Friedrich  Riickert xv 

"          Professor  Cowell xvi 

Professor  CowelPs  Article     ....      xviii-xxxii,  cxxxiv-cxliii 

Sketch  of  Edward  FitzGerald xxxiii-lxi 

Account  of  FitzGerald's  First  Version  and  Later 

Variants xlvii-li 

Lord  Tennyson's  Poem  to  FitzGerald lx 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Plumtre's  Comparison  of  Koheleth 

and  Omar l.xvii 

Sketch  of  Bodenstedt lxxiv 

"          Graf  von  Schack lxxvi 

Other  Translators lxxviii-lxxxii 

Mrs.  Cadell's  Article  on  Omar lxxxiii-xcix 

C.  J.  Pickering's  "  'Umar  of  Nîshâpûr  "     ....  xcix-cxxii 

Omar  Khayyam,  the  Astronomer-Poet  of  Persia  cxxxiii-clvi 

RubAiyät  of  Omar  Khayyam  of  NaishApür  from 

FitzGerald's  Second  Edition,  1868  ....  clvii-clxxix 

RubAiyät  of  Omar  Khayyam  of  NaishApur,  Com- 
parative Versions 1--03 


INTRODUCTION. 


OMAR   AND    HIS    TRANSLATORS. 

I. 

England,  which,  through  the  genius  of  Edward 
FitzGerald,  may  claim  to  have  raised  the  fame  of 
Omar  the  Tentmaker  to  a  degree  which  the  old 
poet  never  enjoyed  even  in  his  native  land,  may 
also  have  precedence  in  having  brought  him  into 
notice.  As  early  as  the  seventeenth  century  Dr. 
Thomas  Hyde  devoted  some  space  in  his  monu- 
mental work  on  the  "  Religion  of  the  Ancient 
Persians  "  to  the  life  and  works  of  Omar.  His  Dr.  Hyde's 
knowledge  of  Persian,  acquired  at  an  age  when  Latil1 
most  boys  would  be  thinking  only  of  athletic  sports,  version 
was  so  perfect  that  on  the  death  of  King  William, 
whose  Court  Interpreter  he  had  been,  he  composed 
an  elegy  in  that  language  in  thirteen  distichs,  printed 
in  ancient  characters,  for  which  the  types  were 
expressly  made.  Dr.  Hyde  has  the  distinction  of 
being  the  first  European  translator  of  Omar's 
poetry.  This  pioneer  in  the  flowery  fields  of  Ori- 
ental literature  deserves  a  few  words  of  remem- 
brance. 


Introduction. 


Dr.  Hyde's 

brilliant 

career 


His 
learning 


The  Rev.  Thomas  Hyde,  D.D.,  was  born  at 
Billingsley  in  June,  1636.  Under  the  tuition  of 
his  father,  who  was  rector  of  the  place,  he  began 
the  Oriental  studies  for  which  he  became  distin- 
guished. In  his  sixteenth  year  he  entered  King's 
College,  Cambridge,  and  made  such  progress  in  the 
Oriental  languages  under  Wheelock  that  he  was 
called  to  London  to  assist  Brian  Walton  in  pre- 
paring his  great  polyglot  Bible.  His  work  was 
that  of  correcting  the  Arabic,  Persian,  and  Syriac 
texts,  and  he  performed  the  almost  miraculous  task 
of  transcribing  into  Persian  characters  the  Per- 
sian translation  of  the  Pentateuch  which  had  been 
printed  in  Hebrew  letters  in  Constantinople  in  1546. 
He  also  appended  the  Latin  version  which  is  in- 
cluded in  that  monumental  work.  In  1658  he  en- 
tered Queen's  College,  Oxford,  and  was  appointed 
Hebrew  reader.  The  following  year,  as  a  compli- 
ment for  his  extraordinary  accomplishments,  he 
was  granted  the  degree  of  M.  A.  He  was  also 
made  under-keeper  of  the  Bodleian  Library,  and 
in  1665,  chief  librarian.  In  1666  he  was  prebendary 
of  old  Sarum,  and  in  167S  arch-deacon  of  Glouces- 
ter. In  1691  he  became  professor  of  Arabic,  and 
six  years  later  Regius  professor  of  Hebrew.  He 
was  secretary  and  interpreter  to  Charles  II.  and 
his  two  successors.  He  knew  not  only  Persian 
and  Hebrew,  but  also  Turkish,  Arabic,  and  even 
Chinese  and  Malay.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
learned  men  of  his  day,  and  his  "  Veterum  Persarum 
Religio,"  though  somewhat  vitiated  by  his  too  great 
reliance  on  Oriental  authorities,  is  still  valuable. 


Introduction.  xi 

He  resigned  liis  librarianship  in  1701,  and  died  in 

I703- 

One  or  two  quatrains  turned  into  Arabic  ante- 
date his:  these,  in  M.  Woepcke's  French  prose 
version,  in  Pickering's  verse  translation,  and  in 
the  original  Latin  of  Dr.  Hyde,  are  reprinted  in 
the  Bibliography. 

Not  long  after  Hyde  was  electrifying  the  learned 
world  by  his  display  of  genius,  the  attention  of 
English  people  was  strongly  attracted  to  the  Orient, 
not  only  by  the  vigorous  policy  of  the  East  India 
Company,  which  was  then  laying  the  foundations 
of  England's  splendid  empire  in  the  East,  but  also 
by  the  first  translation  of  the  "  Arabian  Nights," 
which  opened  a  new  world  of  imagination,  the 
reflection  of  which  may  be  recognized  in  such 
works  as  Addison's  "Vision  of  Mirza"and  Dr. 
Johnson's  "Rasselas."  The  East  from  this  time 
forth  tempted  many  ambitious  young  Englishmen 
to  seek  fame  and  fortune. 

Among  those  who  succeeded  most  brilliantly  Sir  Gore 
was  Sir  Gore  Ouseley,  son  of  Ralph  Ouseley,  a  Ouseley 
gentleman  of  aristocratic  lineage,  and  his  wife, 
Elizabeth  Holland.  Gore  Ouseley,  in  1787,  at  the 
early  age  of  seventeen,  went  to  India,  where  he 
was  introduced  to  the  celebrated  Oriental  scholar, 
Sir  William  Jones. 

A  few  years  later,  in  1792,  he  wrote  his  brother 
William  that  he  was  studying  Persian,  and  had  in 
less  than  five  months  made  such  progress  that  he 
could  read  and  write  it  with  tolerable  facility.  He 
became  the  friend  and  adviser  of  the  Nabob  of 


Introduction. 


The  first 
English 
translation 
of  Omar 


Persian 
poetry- 


Sir  William 
Ouseley 


Oude,  and  acquitted  himself  in  very  delicate  and 
critical  circumstances  with  such  discretion  that 
his  services  were  rewarded  in  1810  by  the  offer 
of  the  high  dignity  of  Ambassador  Extraordinary 
and  Plenipotentiary  to  the  Shah.  No  one  had 
served  at  the  Persian  court  in  that  capacity  since 
1628.  Here  again  his  delicate  tact  and  his  perfect 
knowledge  of  Eastern  etiquette,  as  well  as  his 
fluency  in  spoken  Persian,  enabled  him  to  accom- 
plish important  political  ends.  He  dared  to  brave 
the  arbitrary  eccentricities  of  that  fierce  monarch, 
Futteh  Ali,  and  fully  won  his  respect  and  admi- 
ration. He  returned  to  England  by  the  way  of 
Russia,  where  he  received  the  most  nattering  at- 
tentions from  the  Emperor  Alexander  I.  He  died 
in  1844.  Sir  Gore  Ouseley  made  a  few  translations 
from  Oriental  authors,  and  two  years  after  his  death 
a  memorial  of  him  was  published  containing  his 
"  Biographical  Notices  of  the  Persian  Poets,  with 
Critical  and  Explanatory  Remarks,"  together  with 
an  interesting  sketch  of  his  life,  and  extracts  from 
many  letters.  Sir  Gore  Ouseley  seems  to  be  the 
first  who  ever  translated  any  of  Omar  Khayyam's 
poems  into  English.  Toward  the  end  of  the  memo- 
rial volume  are  collected  a  number  of  proverbs  and 
aphorisms.     Two  of  them  are  from  Omar. 

Sir  Gore  Ouseley  wrote  that  he  considered  Persian 
poetry  "rich  in  elegancies,  moral  and  entertaining, 
replete  with  sublime  though  fanciful  imaginations, 
and  faulty  alone  in  its  extreme  floweriness." 

His  brother,  Sir  William  Ouseley,  also  turned  his 
attention  to  Oriental  literature,  and  before  he  went 


Introduction.  xiii 

to  Persia  as  Sir  Gore's  secretary  he  had  published 
(in  1 795)  a  large  quarto  volume  entitled  "  Persian 
Miscellanies,"  a  work  followed  during  1797-S  by 
a  sort  of  journal  entitled  "The  Oriental  Collec- 
tion," to  which  Sir  Gore  Ouseley,  an  accomplished 
musician,  contributed  curious  articles  on  Kastern 
music  and  instruments.  Sir  William  began  a 
series  of  papers  modestly  called  "  A  Sketch  of  an 
Essay  on  the  Lyrical  Poetry  of  the  Persians."  It 
remained  unfinished,  and  Omar's  name  is  not  men- 
tioned in  it;  but  he  translates  what  he  describes  Jami  and 
as  a  Bacchanalian  sonnet  by  Jami,  which  has  a  Omar 
decided  resemblance  to  some  of  Omar's  wine 
Rubâiyàt  :  — 

"  We  are  of  infamous  character  —  outlaws  and  dis- 
graced in  the  opinion  of  Society.  O  you  who  are 
honest  and  chaste,  shun  our  society."  [Compare 
Rubâ'iy  XCIIL] 

Sir  William  had  not  the  highest  opinion  of 
Oriental  poetry:  The  poet,  he  says,  "sometimes 
aspires  to  celebrate  his  Creator  in  lofty  and  ani- 
mated verse.  But  that  the  Persian  lyre  is  in 
reality  ever  tuned  to  such  exalted  strains  I  cannot 
venter  [sic]  to  assert;  it  is  much  to  be  feared 
that  the  strings,  relaxed  from  too  frequent  tink- 
ling in  the  concert  of  unhallowed  mirth,  would  but 
feebly  vibrate  in  the  solemn  symphony  of  devotion." 

"The  seven  masters  of  the  Persian  Parnassus,"  Emerson 
says  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  in  his  brief  essay  on  and  Baron 
Persian  Poetry,  "  have  ceased  to  be  empty  names."  von  Ham~ 
He  did  not  include  Omar  Khayyam  in  the  shining 


Von 

Hammer- 
Purgstall 


xiv  Introduction. 

Seven,  but  he  hastens  to  add  that  Attâr  and  he 
"promise  to  rise  in  Western  estimation." 

When  Emerson  wrote  these  words  his  knowledge 
of  Persian  poetry  was  principally  derived  from  the 
German  translations  of  Joseph  Hammer,  afterwards 
known  as  Baron  von  Hammer-Purgstall,  who  with 
vast  industry,  and  with  characteristic  German  learn- 
ing, gave  his  countrymen  specimens  of  some  two 
hundred  of  the  Persian  poets. 

Joseph  Freiherr  von  Hammer-Purgstall  was  born 
June  9,  1774,  at  Graz  in  Steiermark,  where  his 
father  was  Gubernialrat.  He  studied  at  Vienna 
at  the  Oriental  Akademie  founded  by  Prince 
Kaunitz.  Freiherr  von  Thugut  singled  the  boy 
out  for  his  capacity,  already  shown  in  the  assist- 
ance which  he  had  rendered  in  the  preparation  of 
Meninski's  Lexicon  of  Arabic,  Turkish,  and  Per- 
sian. In  1796  he  was  a  secretary  in  the  Ministry 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  three  years  later  was  sent 
to  Constantinople  as  so  called  Sprachknabe  under 
Freiherr  von  Herbert,  who  was  trying  to  found  a 
great  trade  with  the  Orient.  During  the  Egyptian 
troubles,  when  the  French  were  driven  from  the 
Nile,  young  Hammer  served  there  as  interpreter, 
and  on  his  return  visited  England.  In  1802  he  was 
Secretary  of  Legation  at  Constantinople,  and  four 
years  later  consular  agent  in  Moldavia.  In  181 1 
he  was  made  Actualrat  and  Court  Interpreter.  In 
1835  he  inherited  the  estates  of  the  Gräfin  von 
Purgstall,  whose  name  he  added  to  his  own,  and 
was  raised  to  the  nobility.  In  1847  he  was  elected 
President  of  the  new  Academy,  a  position  which 


Introduction.  xv 

he  held  only  two  years.  He  died  in  1856.  The 
volume  of  die  "Calcutta  Review"  which  contains 
Professor  Cowell's  illuminating  article  on  Omar 
Khayyam  has  a  letter  from  Baron  von  Hammer- 
Purgstall's  daughter,  giving  an  account  of  lier 
father's  last  days.  He  was  one  of  the  greatest 
Orientalists  who  ever  lived  ;  but  unfortunately  his 
poetical  skill  was  not  equal  either  to  his  learning 
or  to  his  industry,  and  his  works,  forming  a  colossal 
library  in  themselves,  are  left  only  to  industrious 
book-worms. 

Such  a  large  and  expensive  tome  as  his  "History 
of  Persian  Belles  Lettres"'  could  hardly  have  become 
popular,  and  readers  might  easily  have  passed  with 
indifference  the  few  quatrains  which  he  translated 
from  Omar,  hidden  as  they  were  under  the  brighter 
radiance  of  Firdusi,  Hafiz,  and  Sadi,  whose  works 
were  comparatively  familiar. 

A  few  years  later,  in  the  fortieth  volume  of  the  Friedrich 
Vienna  "Jahrbücher  der  Literatur,"  being  the  Rückert 
last  quarterly  number  for  1827,  appeared  a  still 
more  obscure  reference  to  Omar  Khayyam.  Dr. 
Friedrich  Rückert,  whose  merits  as  a  poet  are 
scarcely  recognized  as  they  deserve,  contributed 
an  exceedingly  learned  paper,  treating,  among  other 
matters,  of  the  proper  transliteration  of  Persian 
words,  and  particularly  of  the  various  metres  em- 
ployed by  the  Persian  poets.  To  illustrate  the 
Rubd'iji  terâne,  or  Ruba'iy  of  Song,  which  he 
declares  excels  in  freedom  any  other  form  of 
Persian  verse,  he  gives  a  transcription  and  literal 
version   of    two   of    Omar    Khayyam's   quatrains. 


xvi  Introduction. 

He  begins  his  article  with  a  pleasant  tribute  to  his 
highly  honored  patron  and  master  in  Persian,  —  sein 
hochverehrter  Conner  und  Meister  im  Persischen." 
It  was  reprinted  in  Gotha,  in  1874,  with  the  title, 
"  Grammatik,  Poetik  und  Rhetorik  der  Perser," 
under  the  editorship  of  W.  Pertsch.  The  tran- 
scriptions from  Omar,  together  with  the  specimens 
which  Emerson  translated  from  Hammer-Purgstall, 
will  be  found  in  the  Bibliography. 
Professor  While  Joseph  Hammer  and  Dr.  Riickert  were 

Cowell  working  in  collaboration  in  Vienna,  Ipswich,  Eng- 

land, saw  ushered  into  the  world  an  infant  who 
was  to  be,  as  it  were,  the  John  the  Baptist  of  the 
Omar  Khayyam  cult.  This  was  Edward  Byles 
Cowell.  He  was  born  January  23,  1826;  he  at- 
tended the  town  grammar  school,  and  Magdalen 
Hall,  Oxford.  In  January,  1848,  FitzGerald  wrote 
him  :  "  Ten  years  ago  I  might  have  been  vext 
to  see  you  striding  along  in  Sanskrit  and  Persian 
so  fast  ;  reading  so  much  ;  remembering  all  ;  writ- 
ing about  it  so  well."  He  predicted  that,  if  Cowell 
lived,  he  would  be  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of 
England.  He  took  his  B.  A.  degree  in  classics  in 
1854.  He  it  was  who  inspired  Edward  FitzGerald 
with  his  love  for  Persian  literature,  and  was  his 
teacher.  In  1856  he  was  called  to  Calcutta  as 
Professor  of  History  at  the  Presidency  College, 
and  was  shortly  afterwards  elected  also  Principal 
of  the  Sanskrit  College.  He  returned  to  England 
in  1864,  was  appointed  Professor  of  Sanskrit  at 
Cambridge,  and  in  1874  was  made  a  Fellow  of 
Corpus    Christi    College.     His   published  writings 


Introduction.  xvii 

are  chiefly  on  Sanskrit  subjects;  but  in  1S54  he  Cowell's 
printed,  in  "  Fraser's  Magazine,"  some  prose  trans-  writings 
lations  of  Hafiz.  FitzGerald  thought  that  he  gave 
the  Persian  too  much  credit  for  a  mystical  wine-cup 
and  Cup-bearer.  A  few  years  later,  while  in  India, 
Professor  Cowell  contributed  to  the  "  Calcutta 
Review  "  a  long  article  containing  a  number  of 
metrical  versions  of  Omar  Khayyam's  poems. 
They  are  for  the  most  part  unrhymed.  Fitz- 
Gerald introduced  the  biographical  portion  of  this 
article  into  the  preface  to  his  translation,  with  cer- 
tain unacknowledged  changes,  and  without  men- 
tioning the  author's  name,  nor  did  he  intimate  that 
Professor  Cowell  had  anticipated  him  in  making  the 
first  extended  exposition  of  Omar's  poetry. 

But  in  a  letter  quoted  a  little  further  down  he  ex- 
plains this  omission.  Nevertheless,  it  seems  rather 
odd  that  he  should  have  made  no  reference  to  them, 
although  they  must  have  been  of  great  help  to  him 
in  preparing  his  version.  The  fact  that  the  article 
was  signed  shows  conclusively  that  FitzGerald  was 
quite  too  scrupulous  in  hiding  from  the  public  his 
friend's  great  services,  and  there  is  no  reason  to 
think  that  Professor  Cowell  would  not  have  been 
pleased  to  consent  to  his  just  title  of  being  if  not 
the  discoverer  or  the  pioneer,  yet  certainly  the 
first  English  surveyor  and  purveyor  of  a  wonder- 
fully fertile  and  picturesque  island  in  the  Sea  of 
Unknown  Literature.  Cowell  evidently  took  Omar 
far  too  seriously,  and  did  not  approve  of  him  ;  but 
still  his  views  are  extremely  suggestive,  and  his 
work  deserves  recognition. 


xviii  Introduction. 

A  deserved  No  one  has  apparently  had  sufficient  curiosity  to 
atonement  delve  jnto  the  forgotten  volumes  of  that  out-of-the- 
way  journal,  and  the  translated  quatrains  are  here 
for  the  first  time  reproduced.  All  readers  of  Omar 
will  be  interested  to  compare  the  Cowell  versions 
with  FitzGerald's.  To  place  them  in  this  promi- 
nence is  only  a  fitting  atonement  for  the  neglect 
from  which  it  has  hitherto  been  their  fortune  to 
suffer. 

"  Omar  Khayyam's  poems  are  unique  in  the  literary 
history  of  the  world.  It  is  not  often  that  a  great 
mathematician  indulges  in  the  relaxation  of  verse; 
one  remembers  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  scorn  of  'spoilt 
prose,'  and  is  apt  to  think  of  Urania  as  somewhat  shy 
Science  and  of  familiar  intercourse  with  her  sisters.  But  in  Omar 
Poetry  we  have  not  only  an  example  of  the  perfect  compati- 

bility of  the  severest  studies  in  the  exact  sciences  with 
that  play  of  fancy  and  delicacy  of  feeling  which  we 
associate  with  the  poet;  this  is  by  no  means  all  the 
marvel.  We  find  in  his  verses  a  totally  different  char- 
acter to  that  which  we  should  have  naturally  expected 
from  the  prevailing  habit  of  thought  in  which  he  lived. 
Our  '  double-natured  poet  '  is  a  Janus,  whose  two 
heads  bear  no  similarity;  the  one  half  of  his  life  and 
experience  contradicts  the  other. 

"  Was  it  that  melancholy  temperament,  which  Aris- 
totle of  old  attributed  to  all  poets  and  mathematicians, 
being  thus  doubled  in  intensity  by  this  twofold  liabil- 
ity, found  its  full  utterance  in  these  bitter  tetrastichs,  — 
turning  for  a  while  from  its  exact  and  abstract  studies, 
with  all  their  unreal  truth, 

1  Distinct  but  distant,  clear  but  oh  !  how  cold,' 


Introduction.  xix 

only  to  find  in  life  and  time  enigmas  still  more  puzzling, 
and  problems  still  more  indeterminate,  and  uttering  in 
these  lines  its  sullen  protest  of  weariness? 

'From  the  centre  of  earth  to  the  Zenith  of  Saturn, 
I  solved  all  the  problems  of  the  heavens, 
I  leaped  forth  from  the  bonds  of  every  snare  and 

deceit, 
And  every  bond    was    unloosed  except  the  bond  of 

Death.'  [R.  XXXI,  p.  62.] 

Every  other  poet  of  Persia  has  written  too  much. —  Omar's 
even  her  noblest  sons  of  genius  weary  with  their  pro-  conciseness 
lixity.  The  language  has  a  fatal  facility  of  rhyme, 
which  makes  it  easier  to  write  in  verse  than  in  prose, 
and  every  author  heaps  volumes  on  volumes,  until  he 
buries  himself  and  his  reader  beneath  their  weight. 
Our  mathematician  is  the  one  solitary  exception.  He 
has  fewer  lines  than  Gray. 

"  This  little  volume  of  tetrastichs,  be  their  real  num- 
ber what  they  may,  occupies  its  own  niche  in  Persian 
literature.  For  terseness  of  expression  and  vigour  of 
thought,  we  know  of  no  epigrams  like  them,  even  in 
the  Greek  anthology  ;  while  for  passionate  earnestness 
and  concentrated  sadness,  there  is  nothing  equal  to 
them,  except  Lucretius.  The  Epicurean  views  which 
pervade  them,  but  add  a  deeper  gloom  to  the  melan- 
choly; we  know  that  the  gayety  is  unreal,  and  the 
poet's  smile  is  but  a  risus  sardonicus  of  despair. 

"  All  things  whisper  in  his  ear  of  change  and  decay. 
The  sad  refrain  rings  ever  in  his  hearing;  everywhere 
in  the  world  he  reads  the  record  of  the  inscription 
which  Solomon,  in  Eastern  story,  gave  for  a  signet  ring, 
when  one  asked  him  for  a  motto  which  would  suit  alike 
prosperity  and  adversity,  —  '  This  also  shall  pass  away  !  ' 


XX 


Introduction. 


1  Since  life  is  all  passing,  what  matter  Bagdad  or  Balkh  ? 
If  our  cup  be  full,  what  matter  bitter  or  sweet  ? 
Drink  wine,  —  for  long  after  thee  and  me,  yon  moon 
Will  still  fill  to  its  full,  and  still  waste  to  its  wane.' 

[VIII,  p.  1 6.] 

Or  this  :  — 

'  Yon  rolling  heaven  for  our   destruction,   yours   and 
mine, 
Aims  its  stroke  at  our  lives,  yours  and  mine  ; 
Come,  love,  sit  on  the  grass,  —  it  will  not  be  long 
Ere  grass  grows  out  of  our  dust,  yours  and  mine.' 

[XXIV,  p.  48.] 

Corporeal  "  This  law  (if  one  might  call  it  so)  of  corporeal  trans- 

transmi-  migration  occurs  again   and  again    in    his  poems  ;    it 

gration  seems  to  jar  on  the  poet's  inmost  soul,  and  give  him  a 

peculiar  pang.     Elsewhere  he  has  it  in  a  more  general 

shape  :  — 

'  Wheresoever  is  rose  or  tulip-bed, 
Its  redness  comes  from  the  blood  of  kings  ; 
Every  violet  stalk  that  springs  from  the  earth, 
Was  once  a  mole  on  a  loved  one's  cheek.' 

[XIX,  p.  38.] 


"  In  this  form  the  thought  is  not  peculiar  to  the  East  ; 
we  find  a  very  similar  passage  in  one  of  Shelley's 
poems  :  — 

'  There's  not  one  atom  of  yon  earth 

But  once  was  living  man  ; 
Nor  the  minutest  drop  of  rain, 
That  hangeth  in  its  thinnest  cloud, 

But  flowed  in  human  vein.' 


Introduction.  xxi 

"  We  will  add  one  more  of  this  class  of  tetrastichs, 
before  we  pass  on  to  others;  in  this  there  is  a  peculiar 
delicacy  of  touch,  which  softens  the  roughness  of  the 
original  thought  :  — 

'  This  flask  was  once  a  poor  lover  like  me, 
All  immersed  in  the  chase  of  a  fair  face; 
And  this  its  handle  you  see  on  its  neck 
Was  once  a  hand  that  clasped  a  beloved.' 

[XXXVI,  p.  72.] 

"  The  extracts  which  we  have  already  quoted,  will  Omar  no 
give  our  readers  an  idea  of  Omar's  poetry  ;  and  per-  mystic 
haps  they  will,  ere  this,  have  recognized  one  of  its 
peculiar  features.  Omar  lived  in  an  age  of  poetical 
mysticism,  but  he  himself  is  no  mystic.  His  exact 
sciences  kept  him  from  the  vague  dreams  of  his  con- 
temporaries ;  he  never  loses  himself  in  the  one  and  the 
all;  he  plants  his  foot  on  the  terra firma  of  to-day,  and 
builds  on  it  as  if  it  were  a  rock,  and  not  a  quicksand: 

'  Sweet  blows  on  the  rose's  face  the  breeze  of  the  new 

spring, 
Sweet  down  in  the  garden  are  the  faces  of  the  heart 

inflamers  ; 
But  nought  is  sweet  that  thou  canst  tell  of  a  yesterday 

passed  ; 
Come  be  glad,  nor  talk  of  yesterday,  —  to-day  is  so 

sweet.'  [Compare  Whitley  Stokes,  XV.] 

"  But  Omar,  for  all  his  insight,  had  not  made  the  wiser 
choice.  The  mysticism,  in  which  the  better  spirits  of 
Persia  loved  to  lose  themselves,  was  a  higher  thing, 
after  all,  than  his  keen  worldliness  ;  because  this  was 
but  of  the  earth,  and  bounded  by  the  earth's  narrow 
span,  while  that,  albeit  an  error,  was  a  groping  after 


Vague 

mysticism 

better  than 

Omar's 

worldly 

science 


xxii  Introduction. 

the  divine.  There  was  a  depth  in  that  vague  mysticism 
which  Omar's  science  had  never  sounded  ;  it  sprang 
from  wants  and  feelings  to  which  his  own  heart  was 
a  stranger;  and  hence,  though  his  poetry  was  real,  and 
full  of  passion,  it  moves  '  cabined,  cribbed,  confined  ' 
in  the  animal  life  of  the  senses,  and  seems  dazzled  at 
any  prospect  beyond  the  grave.  His  very  ideas  of 
death  seemed  confined  to  the  body  ;  he  can  feel,  like 
Keats,  '  the  flowers  growing  over  him  ;  '  but  he  rarely 
looks  or  thinks  beyond.  And  yet  it  is  not  always  so  ; 
a  few  rare  tetrastichs  testify  that  Omar  could  not 
always  prove  a  traitor  to  his  own  genius,  —  that  some- 
times it  overmastered  his  habits,  and  wrung  unwonted 
aspirations  perforce  from  his  lips  :  — 

'  Oh  heart,  wert  thou  pure  from  the  body's  dust, 
Thou  shouldst  soar  naked  spirit  above  the  sky  ; 
Highest  heaven  is  thy  native  seat,  —  for  shame,  for 

shame, 
That  thou  shouldst  stoop  to  dwell  in  a  city  of  clay  !  ' 

[XLIV,  p.  88.] 


The  cause  of  "  No  wonder  that  gloom  overshadows  all  Omar  Khay- 
his  dissatis-  yam's  poetry  ;  he  was  false  to  his  better  self,  and  there- 
faction  fore  ill  at  ease  and  sad.  He  was  resolved  to  ignore 
the  future  and  the  spiritual,  and  anchor  only  by  the 
material  and  tangible  ;  but  his  very  insight  became 
blinded  and  misled  him,  and  instead  of  something  solid 
and  satisfying,  he  grasped  only  a  '  darkness  that  could 
be  felt?  We  can  trace  the  evil,  running  like  a  canker 
through  his  life  ;  his  pleasures,  his  friendships,  —  nay, 
his  very  studies  became  blighted  under  its  touch. 

"  Bernouilli  could  find  such  an  intense  delight  in  his 
problems  that  he  could  say  that  they  gave  him  some 
idea  of  the  happiness  of  heaven  ;    his  faculties  were 


Introduction.  xxiii 

working  unrestrained  towards  their  proper  object;  and 

pleasure,  old  philosophers  tell  us,  supervenes  on  such 

harmonious  action,  as  a  finish  or  bloom.     But  in  (  >mur  No  internal 

there  was  no  such  internal  harmony  ;  the  diviner  part  harmony 

within   him  was  ignored;  and  hence  the  very  studies 

in   which  his  life  was  spent,  failed  to  yield  him  solid 

enjoyment. 

"  Had  he  been  only  a  thoughtless  Epicurean,  we 
should  have  looked  at  his  poetry  in  a  very  different  light. 
The  careless  gayety  of  Horace  never  loses  its  charm,  for 
it  was  the  spontaneous  outburst  of  his  nature.  Ile 
floated  on  life's  surface,  with  no  deep  passion  for  any- 
thing, and  his  poetry  bears  the  true  impress  of  his 
character.  But  in  Omar  there  was  a  resolute  will, — 
he  was  deeply  earnest  in  science;  and  to  dally  with 
doubt  and  Epicureanism  was  possible  only  where  he 
was  not  in  earnest.  It  was  this  which  caused  the 
moral  jar  in  his  character,  and  hence  his  poetry  reads 
to  us  — 

'  Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh.' 

"We  have  said  that  Omar  was  no  mystic,  —  we  find  Omar's 
no  trace  of  Sufeyism  in  his  book.     His  roses  bloom  in  tone  of 
an  earthly  summer,  his  wine  is  of  mortal  vintage;  un-  revelry  nor. 
like  all  other  Persian  poets,  everything  with  him  is  real  assumed 
and  concrete.     That  tone  of  revelry  which  in  Hdfiz  and 
Jami   was   but   a   passing   fashion,    under   which   their 
genius   veiled    its    higher    aspirations,  —  like    the    Pe- 
trarchan sonnet  in  the  hands  of  Shakespeare  or  Milton, 
—  is  in  Omar  Khayyam  the  matter  itself,  not  the  form. 
He  turns  in  these  quatrains  from  his  science  and  astron- 
omy to  drown  thought  in  the  passing  moment's  pleas- 
ures ;  he  seems  to  forget  his  better  self  in  his  temporary 
Epicurean  disguise:  — 


xxiv  Introduction. 

'•  My  coming  was  not  of  mine  own  design, 
And  one  day  I  must  go,  and  no  choice  of  mine; 

Come,  light-handed  cupbearer,  gird  thee  to  serve, 
We  must  wash  down  the  care  of  this  world  with  wine. 

•  Come  bring  me  that  ruby  in  yon  crystal  cup, 
That  true  friend  and  brother  of  every  open  heart  ; 

Thou  knowest  too  well  that  this  life  on  earth 
Is  a  wind  that  hurries  by,  —  bring  the  wine. 

[XXIX,  p.  58.] 

'  Since  none  can  promise  himself  to-morrow, 
Make  that  forlorn  heart  of  thine  glad  today; 

Drink  wine,   fair  moon-faced,  by  the  light  of  yon 
moon, 
For  oft  shall  it  look  for  us  and  find  us  not. 

[C,  p.  194.] 

'What  though  the  wine  rends  my  veil, 
While  I  live,  I  will  never  tear  me  away  ; 

I  marvel  much  at  the  sellers  of  wine, 
For  what  better  thing  can  they  buy  than  what  they 
sell?  [XCV,  p.  1S4.] 

'The  caravan  *  of  life  hurries  strangely  by, 
Seize  every  moment  that  passes  in  joy  ; 

Why,   cupbearer,   mourn    for   the    morrow   of  thy 
friends? 
Give  the  cup  of  wine,  for  the  night  hurries  by.' 

[XLVIII,  p.  96.] 

*  FitzGerald's  note  (No.  16)  regarding  '•'  the  phantom  Cara- 
van "  was  omitted  from  the  third  and  subsequent  editions.  It 
was  short  and  unimportant  :  — 

"The  Caravan  travelling  by  Night  (after  their  New  Year's 
Day  of  the  Vernal  Equinox)  by  Command  of  Mohammed,  1 
believe." 


Introduction.  xxv 

"  A  few  of  the  tetrastichs  breathe  the  same  spirit  of  A  spirit  of 
contentment  which  we  should  have  expected  from  their  content- 
author's  old  reply  to  the  vizier's  invitations  to  power  :  —  ment 

'  Some  ruby  wine  and  a  diwdn  of  poems, 
A  crust  of  bread  to  keep  the  breath  in  one's  body, 

And  thou  and  I  alone  in  a  desert,  — 
Were  a  lot  beyond  a  Sultan's  throne.        [XII,  p.  24] 

'  Of  all  the  world  my  choice  is  two  crusts  and  a  corner, 
I  have  severed  my  desires  from  power  and  its  pomp  ; 

I  have  bought  me  poverty  with  heart  and  soul, 
For  I  have  found  the  true  riches  in  poverty. 

[XII,  p.  24.] 

'  Oh  my  heart,  since  life's  reality  is  illusion, 
Why  vex  thyself  with  its  sorrows  and  cares  ? 

Commit  thee  to  fate,  contented  with  the  hour, 
For  the  pen,  once  passed,  returns  not  back  for  thee  !  ' 

[LXXI,  p.  138.] 

"  But  in  too  many  of  his  poems  we  find  a  settled 
gloom,  which  stands  in  striking  contrast  to  the  assumed 
carelessness.  Omar  is  ill  at  ease  within,  and  his  in-  Omar  and 
ternal  discord  reflects  itself  in  an  angry  defiance  of  the  Lucretius 
world  and  its  opinions  and  beliefs.  Like  the  Roman 
Lucretius,  his  very  science  leads  him  astray;  he  has 
learned  enough  to  unsettle  his  ancient  instincts,  but 
not  enough  to  rebuild  them  on  a  surer  basis.  In  the 
sublime  poem  of  Lucretius,  we  see  the  inevitable  battle 
between  the  vague  dreams  of  an  obsolete  mythology, 
and  the  progressive  certainties  of  physical  science  ;  and 
in  the  first  intensity  of  the  conflict,  the  iconoclasm  ex- 


Introduction. 


tends  itself  beyond  the  idols  of  the  old  belief,  to  the 
The  idea  of  very  bases  of  belief  itself  within  the  soul.  The  arbi- 
a  First  trary  laws  and  tenets  of  the  national  creed  are  found  at 

Cause  variance  with  the  discoveries  of   science  ;  the  idea  of 

'laws  of  nature'  slowly  evolves  itself,  in  its  sublime 
simplicity  and  universality  ;  and  the  idle  causes  of 
phenomena,  which  mythology  had  fabricated  in  the 
personal  caprices  of  certain  deified  abstractions,  melt 
away  of  themselves  like  shadows  in  the  light  of  morn- 
ing. But  under  all  these  erroneous  figments,  there  lay 
the  primitive  instinct  of  some  first  cause, — the  obsti- 
nate, unconquerable  want  which  no  created  thing  can 
fill  ;  and  this  remained  untouched  amidst  the  change, 
as  the  soul  when  the  body  was  shattered.  But  this 
Lucretius  did  not  understand  ;  he  proceeded  from  the 
gods  of  mythology  to  demolish  the  very  idea  of  a  Prov- 
idence at  all.  The  very  truth  which  he  had  grasped 
so  firmly,  that  nature  obeys  certain  unvarying  laws,  led 
him  astray  ;  and  it  was  a  step  reserved  for  a  later  time, 
to  see  that  this  grand  idea  is  by  no  means  at  variance 
with  the  ancient  instincts  of  the  soul,  —  that  the  laws 
of  nature,  like  any  other  laws,  must  imply  a  law-giver's 
The  superi-  sanction  and  authority,  —  and  that  long  before  Greek 
ority  of  the  or  Roman  science,  in  an  unlettered  people  whose  very 
Hebrew  name    Greece  and    Rome  despised,   ancient   seers  had 

recognized  the  scientific  principle,  and  yet  at  once 
subordinated  it  to  the  highest  truth,  when  they  sang 
of  man's  impotence  '  to  break  God's  covenant  of  the 
day  and  of  the  night,  that  there  should  not  be  day  and 
night  in  their  season.' 
Omar's  "  Omar  Khayyam's  scepticism  seems  to  us  to  belong  to 

time  an  age    a  similar  phase  of  mental  history  with  that  of  Lucretius, 
of  darkness    He  lived  in  an  age  of  religious  darkness,  and  the  very 
men  around  him  who  most  felt  their  wants  and  misery 
had  no  power  to  satisfy  or  remove  them.     Amidst  the 


Introduction.  x.wii 

religious  feeling    which    might   be   at   work,    acting   in 
various  and  arbitrary  directions,  hypocrisy  and  worldli- 
ness  widely  mingled;  and  everywhere  pressed  the  un- 
recognized  but    yet  over-mastering  reality,  —  that    the 
national   creed   was   itself    not   based    on    the   eternal 
relations  of   things   as  fixed  by  the  Creator.     The  re- 
ligious fervour,  therefore,  when  it  betook   itself  to  its 
natural  channel  to  flow  in,  —  the  religion  of  the  people, 
—  found  nothing  to  give  it  sure  satisfaction;  the  inter- 
nal  void  remained  unfilled.     Hence  this  fervour  natu-  The  out- 
rally  turned  to  asceticism  and  mysticism  ;  the  dervishes,  come  of 
fakirs,  and  sufisofthe  Mohammedan  world  have  risen  unsatisfied 
by  a  law  of  the  human  mind;  and  we   think  that  the  religious 
scepticism  of  Omar  Khayyam,  and   similar  writers,    is  fervour 
but  the  result  of  another  similar  law.     The  asceticism 
and  mysticism  failed   in  their  turn  to  give  solid  peace 
to  the   inquirer,  and  they  were  soon  overlaid  by  mum- 
meries and  deceits,  —  the  earnest  enthusiasts  died  and 
their   places  were  too   often  filled  by  impostors  ;    and 
Omar  Khayyam  is  the  result  of  the  inevitable  re-action.   Omar  the 
His   tetrastichs   are   filled   with    bitter    satires    of   the  result  of  a 
sensuality  and  hypocrisy  of  the  pretenders  to  sanctity,  reaction 
but  he  did  not  stop  there.     He  could  see  with  a  clear 
eye  the  evil  and  folly  of  the  charlatans  and  empirics  ; 
but  he  was  blind,  when  he  turned  from  these,  to  deny 
the  existence  of  the  soul's  disease,  or,  at  any  rate,  the 
possibility   of  a    cure.     Here,   like    Lucretius,   he   cut 
himself  loose  from  facts;  and   in  both  alike  we  trace 
the  unsatisfied  instincts,  —  the  dim  conviction  that  their 
wisdom  is  folly,  —  which  reflect  themselves  in  darker 
colours  in   the  misanthropy  and  despair,  which   cloud 
their  visions  of  life. 

"  Lucretius,  when  he  resolved  to  follow  his  material 
science  to  the  last,  whithersoever  it  would  lead  him, 
built  a  system  for  himself  in  his  poem,  or  rather  acted 


xxviii  Introduction. 

as  the  exponent  and  interpreter  of  the  Greek  system, 
The  aim  of      which  he  had  embraced.     His  poem  on  nature  has  a 
Lucretius'      professed  practical  aim,  —  to  explain   the  world's  self- 
great  poem     acting  machine  to  the  polytheist,  and  disabuse  him  of 
all  spiritual  ideas.     Omar  Khayyam  builds  no  system, 
—  he   contents   himself   with  doubts   and  conjectures; 
he  loves  to  balance  antitheses  of  belief,  and  settle  him- 
self in  the  equipoise  of  the  sceptic  (iiroxy)-     Fate  and 
free  will,  with  all  their  infinite  ramifications  and  practi- 
cal consequences  ;    the  origin  of  evil;   the  difficulties  of 
evidence  ;   the   immortality  of   the   soul  ;   future   retri- 
bution, —  all    these   questions  recur   again   and   again. 
Omar  gives    Not  that  he  throws  any  light  on  these  world-old  prob- 
no  light  on      lems  ;  he  only  puts  them  in  a  tangible  form,    conden- 
world-old       sing  all  the  bitterness  in  an  epigram.     Of  this  class  we 
questions        subjoin  two  of  the  more  harmless,  —  some  of  the  most 
daring  are  better  left  in  their  original  Persian  :  — 

1 1  am  not  the  man  to  fear  annihilation  ; 
That  half  forsooth  is  sweeter  than  this  half  which 
we  have; 
This  life  of  mine  is  entrusted  as  a  loan, 
And  when  pay-day  comes,  I  will  give  it  back. 

[LXXIX,  p,  154] 

'  Heaven  derived  no  profit  from  my  coming  hither, 
And  its  glory  is  not  increased  by  my  going  hence  ; 

Nor  hath  my  ear  ever  heard  from  mortal  man, — 
This  coming  and  going  —  why  they  are  at  all  ?  ' 


"  That  Omar  in  his  impiety  was  false  to  his  better 
knowledge,  we  may  readily  admit,  while  at  the  same 
time  we  find  some  excuse  for  his  errors,  if  we  remember 
the  state  of  the  world  at  that  time.     His  clear,  strong 


Introduction.  x.xix 

sense  revolted  from  the  prevailing  mysticism,  where  all  He  detested 

the  earnest  spirits  of  his  age   found   their    refuge,  and    sham  and 
his  honest  independence  was  equally  shocked  by  the    hypocrisy 
hypocrites  who    aped    their   fervour    and    enthusiasm; 
and  at  that  dark   hour  of  man's  history,  whither,  out 
of  Islam,  was  the  thoughtful  Mohammedan  to  repair? 

"  No  missionary's  step,  bringing  good  tidings,  had  ap- 
peared on  the  mountains  of  Persia;  the  few  Christians 
who  might  cross  his  path  in  his  native  land,  would  only 
seem  to  him  idolaters;  and  even  in  Europe  itself  Chris 
tianity   lay  stifled   under  an  incubus  of  ignorance  and 
superstition  ;  Christendom  came  before  Omar  only  in 
the  form  of  the  First  Crusade  !     These   things  should 
be  borne  in  mind  as  we  study  Mohammedan  literature. 
While  Arabian  and  Persian  letters  were  in  their  glory, 
Europe  was  buried  in  mediaeval  darkness  ;  science  and 
learning  were  in  their  noon-tide  splendour  in  Bagdad 
and   Cordova,   while   feudal    barbarism   brooded   over 
France  and   England.     When   we  read  such  a  life  as   The  isola- 
Sadi's,  with  its  thirty  years  of  adventure  and  travel,  it   tion  of 
is  strange  to  mark  how  entirely  the  range  of  his  experi-  Persian 
ence  is  confined  to  Asia  and  the  Mohammedan  world,  literature 
Almost  the  only  one  point  of  contact  with  Christendom 
is    his    slavery    under  the    Crusaders  at    Tripoli.     The 
same  isolation  runs  through   all   the  golden  period   of 
Persian  literature  ;  it  was  already  fading  into  tasteless 
effeminacy  when  the  two  Shelleys  first  found  their  way 
to  the  court  of  Abbas  the  Great.     We  now  proceed  to  Omar's 
add  a  few  of  the   more  striking  tetrastichs  ;  they  will  greatness 
serve  as  further  proofs  of  what  we  have  remarked  on  as  a  poet 
the  author's  singular  position  among  the  poets  of  his 
country. 

"None  that  we  know  of  has  written  fewer  lines,  and  in 
none  is  there  so  large  a  proportion  of  good  :  — ■ 


X.XX  Introduction. 

'  The  spring-cloud  came  and  wept  bitterly  over  the 
grass, 
I  cannot  live  without  the  arghuvân-coloured  wine  ; 
This  grass  is  our  festal  place  today, 
But  the  grass  that  grows  from  our  dust,  whose  festal 
place  will  it  be  ?  [XXIII,  p.  46.] 


'  Ask  not  for  empire,  for  life  is  a  moment, 
Every  atom  of  dust  was  once  a  Kai-kobâd  or  Jam- 

shid; 
The  story  of  the  world  and  this  whole  life  of  ours 
Is  a  dream  and  a  vision,  an  illusion  and  a  breath. 

[IX,  p.  18.] 

'  When  the  nightingale  raises  his  lament  in  the  garden, 
We  must  seize  like  a  tulip,  the  wine  in  our  hand, 
Ere  men,  one  to  the  other,  in  their  foolish  talk, 
Say  "  such  a  one  hath  seized  his  cup  and  is  gone  !  " 


'  That  castle,  in  whose  hall  king  Bahrain  drained  the 
cup, 
There  the  fox  hath  brought  forth  her  young  and  the 

lion  made  his  lair, 
Bahrâm  who  his  life  long  seized  the  deer  (gor) 
See  how  the  tomb  (gor)  has  seized  him  today! 

[XVIII,  p.  36.] 

1  By  the  running  stream  and  the  grass,  cupbearer  bright 

as  the  lamp, 
Give  the  wine,  break  thy  vows,  and  touch  the  lute  ; 
Be  glad,  for  the  running  stream  lifts  its  voice,  — ■ 
"  I  am  gone,"  it  cries,  "  and  shall  never  return  !  " 


Introduction.  xxxi 

■  Alas  that  the  book  of  youth  is  folded, 
And  the  fresh  purple  spring  become  December; 

That  bird  of  joy,  whose  name  was  youth,  — 
Alas  I  know  not,  how  he  came  or  is  gone! 

[XCVI,  p.  1S6.] 

'  lie  glad,  for  the  moon  of  the  Keel  will  be  here, 
All  the  means  of  mirth  will  soon  be  well, — ■ 
Pale  is  yon  moon,  its  back  bowed,  and  lean, 
You  would  say  it  will  soon  sink  in  its  sorrow. 

[Last  note,  p.  175.] 

'  Kip  to  lip  I  passionately  kissed  the  bowl, 
To  learn  from  it  the  secret  of  length  of  days  ; 
Lip  to  lip  in  answer  it  whispered  reply, 
"  Drink  wine,  for  once  gone  thou  shalt  never  return  !  " 

[XXXV,  p.  70.] 

'  I  went  last  night  into  a  potter's  shop, 
A  thousand  pots  did  I  see  there,  noisy  and  silent  ; 
When  suddenly  one  of  the  pots  raised  a  cry, 
"  Where    is  the  pot-maker,    the  pot-buyer,  the  pot- 
seller  ?  "  [LXXX VII,  p.  168.] 

In  the  view  of  reality,  not  of  illusion, 
We  mortals  are  chess-men  and  fate  is  the  player; 
We  each  act  our  game  on  the  board  of  life, 
And  then  one  by  one  are  swept  into  the  box  ! 

[KXIX,  p.  134.] 

'  Von  rolling  heavens,  at  which  we  gaze  bewildered, 
Are  but  the  image  of  a  magic  lanthorn  ; 
The  sun  is  the  candle,  the  world  the  shade, 
And  we  the  images  which  flit  therein. 

[LXVIILp.  152.] 


Introduction. 


The  dirge 
over  a 
wasted  life 


'  Last  night  I  dashed  my  clay  cup  on  the  stone, 
And  at  the  reckless  freak  my  heart  was  glad, 
When  with  a  voice  for  the  moment  out  spake  the  cup, 
"  I  was  once  as  thou  and  thou  shalt  be  as  I  !"  ' 

[App.  XIV,  Nicolas,  404,  etc.] 

"  We  would  conclude  with  two  more  tetrastichs,  which 
may  fitly  close  our  imperfect  sketch.  Omar  Khayyam, 
we  have  said,  was  ill-at-ease  and  unhappy  ;  his  tone  of 
revelry  and  enjoyment  vainly  masked  the  aching  void 
within,  and  where  shall  we  find  a  more  melancholy 
dirge  than  the  following  over  a  wasted  life,  with  its- 
knowledge  and  genius  ?  — 

'  If  coming  had  been  in  my  power,  I  would  not  have 
come, 
If  going  had  been  in  my  power,  I  would  not  go 
Oh  best  of  all  lots,  if  in  this  world  of  clay 
I  had  come  not,  nor  gone,  nor  been  at  all  !  ' 

[App.  XLV,  Nicolas,  450,  etc.] 

The  dark-  «  And  if  the  present  was  dark,  darker  still  seemed 

ness  of  the      (he  future;  its  darkness  made  even  the  present  seem 
bright  ! 

'  Ere  Death  raises  his  night  attack  on  my  head, 
Bid  them  bring  the  rose-red  wine. 
No  gold  art  thou,  poor  brain-sick  fool, 
That  once  buried,  they  should  dig  thee  out  again  !  ' 

[XV,  p.  30.] 

"  How  different  from  the  feeling  of  good  old  Izaak 
Walton,  when  he  stood  by  the  open  grave  of  his  friend 
Dr.  Donne,  and  thought  of  '  that  body  which  once  was 
a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  is  now  become  a 
small  quantity  of  Christian  dust,  —  but  I  shall  see  it 
re-animated  !  '  " 


future 


Introduction. 


II. 


cult 


.  The  growth  of  the  Omar  Khayyam  cult,  which  The  Omar 
during  the  past  twenty  years  has  assumed  sucli  Khayyam 
extraordinary  proportions,  resulting  in  Omar  Khay- 
yam clubs  and  societies,  and  calling  for  edition 
after  edition  of  the  "  RubaiyaV  may  be  attributed 
almost  wholly  to  the  interpretation  of  Edward 
FitzGerald.  He  ingeniously  wove  into  a  life-cycle 
of  agnosticism  a  number  of  originally  disconnected 
and  isolated  quatrains,  informing  the  whole  with 
the  unity  of  his  own  personality  and  with  the 
flamboyant  brilliancy  of  his  peculiar  genius.  He 
took  the  Persian's  thought  and  the  Persian's  man- 
ner, but  made  it  his  with  just  such  high-handed, 
modest,  one  might  almost  say  unconscious,  art  of 
lordly  rapine  as  Shakespeare  displayed  toward  the 
predecessors  whom  he  robbed  to  glorify. 

There  are  few  characters  in  modern  literature 
who  stand  out  with  clearer  individuality,  or  whose 
lives  have  been  more  transparent.  This  individu- 
ality is  largely  revealed  in  his  letters,  but  also  in 
the  recollections  of  his  friends. 

Edward  FitzGerald,  who  bore  the  name  of  Edward 
Edward  Purcell  until  he  was  nine  years  old,  was  FitzGerald 
born  at  Bredfield  House,  an  old  mansion  of  King 
James's  time,  not  far  from  Woodbridge,  Suffolk, 
England,  March  31,  1809.  He  was  the  third  son 
of  John  Purcell,  who  on  the  death  of  his  wife's 
3 


Introduction. 


Change  of 
name 


father  took  the  name  and  arms  of  FitzGerald.  His 
father  was  interested  in  collieries.  In  a  letter  to 
Fanny  Kemble,  sister  of  his  schoolmate,  J.  M. 
Kemble,  he  says  of  his  mother  :  "  She  was  a  re- 
markable woman  ...  as  I  constantly  believe  in 
outward  Beauty  as  an  Index  of  a  Beautiful  Soul 
within,  I  used  sometimes  to  wonder  what  feature 
in  her  face  betrayed  what  was  not  good  in  her 
Character.  I  think  (as  usual)  the  lips;  there  was 
a  twist  of  Mischief  about  them,  now  and  then,  like 
that  in  —  the  Tail  of  a  Cat.  Otherwise  so  smooth 
and  amiable."  He  speaks  little  of  his  father  in  his 
letters:  even  his  death,  which  left  him  comfortable 
means,  is  dismissed  in  one  letter  with  only  a  word. 
But  his  mother,  and  her  coach-and-four,  were  a 
decided  feature  in  his  horizon. 

His  own  vivacious  humor  was  early  shown  in 
his  "unfailing  fun  and  droll  speeches."  At  the 
age  of  twelve  he  was  sent  to  King  Edward  the 
Sixth's  School  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's,  where  his 
two  older  brothers  were.  In  February,  1826,  he 
His  friends  was  entered  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Many 
of  his  later  friends  and  acquaintances  —  the 
Baconian,  James  Speckling,  W.  M.  Thackeray, 
Archdeacon  Allen,  W.  H.  Thompson,  Master  of 
Trinity;  and  the  Tennysons  —  were  contempo- 
raries of  his  at  the  University. 

FitzGerald  passed  through  his  course  in  a  leis- 
urely way,  amusing  himself  with  music,  drawing, 
and  poetry,  for  all  of  which  he  had  natural  gifts: 
when  graduation  drew  nigh,  he  had  some  fears  that 
he  might  fail  to  pass.  After  taking  his  degree,  he 
went,  in  the  spring  of  1830,  to  Paris,  where  his  aunt, 


Introduction.  xxxv 

Miss  Purcell,  lived.  Fourteen  years  before,  his 
father's  family  had  been  settled  at  St.  Germains, 
and  had  afterwards  occupied  the  house  in  which 
Robespierre  once  lived. 

In  May  he  wrote  his  friend  Allen  :  "I  start  for  Becoming  a 
England  in  a  week.  ...  I  cannot  stand  seeing  recluse 
new  faces  in  the  polite  circles.  You  must  know  I 
am  going  to  become  a  great  bear:  and  have  got  all 
sorts  of  Utopian  ideas  into  my  head  about  society: 
these  may  all  be  very  absurd,  but  I  try  the  experi- 
ment on  myself,  so  I  can  do  no  great  hurt." 

Thus  early  began  to  show  itself  that  shyness 
which  caused  Cowell  to  say  of  him  that  he  was  "  very 
much  of  a  recluse,"  though  he  hastens  to  add  that  the 
"  vein  of  misanthropy  "  which  he  showed  toward  men 
in  the  abstract  was  "joined  to  a  tenderhearted  sym- 
pathy for  the  actual  men  and  women  around  him." 

In    November   of   that   year  he  was    at   lonely  Verses  from 
Naseby,  where  his  father  owned  a  large  estate,  in-  his  first 
eluding  the  famous  battlefield.      Here  he  is  sup-  Published 
posed  to  have  written  his  first  published  verses, —  P°em 
the  quaint  old-fashioned  poem  which  appeared  in 
Hone's  Year  Book  for  April  30,   1831  :  — 

"  'T  is  a  dull  sight 

To  see  the  year  dying, 
When  winter  winds 

Set  the  yellow  wood  sighing: 
Sighing,  oh  !  sighing. 

"  When  such  a  time  cometh, 
I  do  retire 
Into  an  old  room 
Beside  a  bright  fire  : 
Oh,  pile  a  bright  fire! 


XXXVI 


Introduction. 


"  And  there  I  sit 

Reading  old  things, 
Of  knights  and  lorn  damsels, 
While  the  wind  sings  — 
Oh,  drearily  sings  ! 

"  Then  with  an  old  friend 
I  talk  of  our  youth  — 
How  't  was  gladsome,  but  often 
Foolish,  forsooth  : 
But  gladsome,  gladsome  ! 


"  Then  go  we  to  smoking, 
Silent  and  snug: 
Nought  passes  between  us, 
Save  a  brown  jug  — 
Sometimes  !  " 


Attributed 
to  Charles 
Lamb 


Lamb  liked  it:  "'Tis  a  poem  I  envy  —  that  and 
Montgomery's  '  Last  Man  '  :  I  envy  the  writers, 
because  I  feel  I  could  have  done  something  like 
them."  FitzGerald  himself  liked  it:  "rather 
homely  in  expression,"  he  said,  "but  I  honestly 
profess  to  stick  more  to  the  simplicity  of  the  old 
poets  than  the  moderns,  and  to  love  the  philo- 
sophical good  humor  of  our  old  writers  more  than 
the  sickly  melancholy  of  tlie  Byronian  wits."  "  The 
Athenaeum  "  liked  it,  and  copied  the  whole  thir- 
teen verses,  believing  them  to  have  been  Lamb's! 

Twenty  years  later  —  the  intervening  years  hav- 
ing been  filled  with  pleasant  dilettanteism  and 
the  writing  of   many  delightful    letters  —  he  pub- 


Introduction.  xxxvii 

lislied  "Euphranor,"  a  study  of  a  friendship,  with  "  Euphra- 
a  literary  discussion,  in  which  "the  truth,"  says  nor  "  pub" 
FitzGerald,  "  is  told  in  a  Dialogue  really  something    IS  e  ' 

1851 

Platonic,"  conducted  in  part  over  the  scene  of  the 

Canterbury  Pilgrimage.     In  this  "  chisell'd  cherry 
stone  "  is  contained  a  description  of  a  boat  race, — 
a  piece  of  prose  highly  praised  by  Tennyson.     The 
next  year  came  "  Polonius,"  a  collection  of  aphor- 
isms, original  and  selected.      He   had    before  this 
taken  up   the   study   of    Spanish,  and    in   1853  he 
published  a  free   translation   of  six   of    Calderon's  "  Six  Dra- 
less  famous  dramas,  in  which,  savs  he,  "while  faith-  mas  from 
fully  trying  to  retain  what  was  fine  and  efficient,"  Calderon" 
he    "  sunk,   reduced,   altered,    and    replaced   much     ree  y 
that  seemed  not  ;  simplified  some  perplexities,  and 
curtailed  or  omitted  scenes  that  seemed  to  mar  the 
breadth  of  general  effect,  supplying  such  omissions 
by  some  lines  of  after  narrative." 

This  is  a  very  good  confession  of  FitzGerald"s  A  theory  of 
theory  of  translation.  In  a  letter  to  Lowell  he  translation 
wrote  :  "  It  is  an  amusement  to  me  to  take  what 
Liberties  I  like  with  these  Persians,  who  (as  I 
think)  are  not  Poets  enough  to  frighten  one  from 
such  excursions,  and  who  really  do  want  a  little 
Art  to  shape  them." 

It  is  uncertain  at  what  time  lie  took  up  the  study 
of  Persian,  but  in  March,  1S82,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  H. 
Schütz-Wilson  :  — 

"I  must  thank  you  sincerely  for  your  thoughts  about 
Salâmân,  in  which  I  recognize  a  good  will  toward  the 
Translator,  as  well  as  liking  for  his  work.  (  )f  course 
your  praise  could  not  but  help  that  on;  but  I  scarce 


xxxviii  Introduction. 

think  that  it  is  of  a  kind    to  profit  so  far  by  any  re- 
view as    to  make  it  worth    the  expense  of   Time  and 
Talent  you  might  bestow  upon  it.     In  Omar's  case  it 
Why  Omar     was  different  :  he  sang  in  an  acceptable  way.  it  seems, 
reaches  the    of  what  all  men  feel  in  their  hearts,  but  had  not  had 
heart  exprest  in  verse  before  :  Jami  tells  of  what  everybody 

knows,  under  cover  of  a  not  very  skilful  Allegory.  1 
have  undoubtedly  improved  the  whole  by  boiling  it 
clown  to  about  a  Quarter  of  its  original  size;  and  there 
are  many  pretty  things  in  it,  though  the  blank  Verse 
is  too  Miltonic  for  Oriental  style.  All  this  considered, 
why  did  I  ever  meddle  with  it  ?  Why,  it  was  the 
first  Persian  poem  I  read,  with  my  friend  Edward 
Cowell,  near  on  forty  years  ago:  and  I  was  so  well 
pleased  with  it  then  (and  now  think  it  almost  the  best 
of  the  Persian  Poems  I  have  read  or  heard  about), 
that  I  published  my  version  of  it  in  1856  (I  think) 
with  Parker  of  the  Strand.  When  Parker  disappeared, 
my  unsold  copies,  many  more  than  of  the  sold,  were 
returned  to  me  ;  some  of  which,  if  not  all,  I  gave  ta 
little  Quaritch,  who,  I  believe,  trumpeted  them  off  to 
some  little  profit  :  and  I  thought  no  more  of  them. 

"But  some  six  or  seven  years  ago  that  Sheikh  of 
mine,  Edward  Cowell,  who  liked  the  Version  better 
than  any  one  else,  wished  it  to  be  reprinted.  So  I 
took  it  in  hand,  boiled  it  down  to  three  fourths  of 
what  it  originally  was,  and  (as  you  see)  clapt  it  on  the 
back  of  Omar,  where  I  still  believed  it  would  hang 
somewhat  of  a  dea  \  weight.  ...  As  to  the  publication 
of  my  name,  I  believe  I  could  well  dispense  with  it, 
were  it  other  and  better  than  it  is.  Put  I  have  some 
unpleasant  associations  with  it  ;  not  the  least  of  them 
being  that  it  was  borne,  Christian  and  Surname,  by  a 
man  who  left  College  just  as  I  went  there.  .  .  .  What 
has  become  of  him  I  know  not  ;  but  he,  among  other 


Introduction.  xxxix 

causes,  has  made  me  dislike  my  name,  and  made  me 
sign  myself  (half  in  fun,  of  course)  to  my  friends,  as 
now  I  do  to  you,  sincerely  yours, 

(The   Laird  of)    Littlegrange." 

The  forty  years  of  this  letter  would  have  re-  His  first 
moved  his  first  Persian  studies  to  the  forties.  His  Persmn 
interest  in  it  certainly  began  then,  for  in  1846  he 
wrote  his  friend  Cowell :  "Your  Hafiz  is  fine:  and 
his  tavern  world  is  a  sad  and  just  idea.  ...  It 
would  be  a  good  work  to  give  us  some  of  the  good 
things  of  Hafiz  and  the  Persians:  of  bulbuls  and 
ghuls  we  have  had  enough."  In  1852  he  was 
reading  Spanish  with  him.  and  probably  soon  after 
took  up  the  Persian;  for  in  October,  1S53.  he 
writes  :  "  I  have  ordered  Eastwick's  Gulistan  ;  for 
I  believe  I  shall  potter  out  so  much  Persian."  He 
used  Sir  William  Jones's  Grammar.  And  he  writes 
to  Professor  Cowell,  March  12.  1857:  — 

"  Only  to-day  I  have  been  opening  dear  old  Salâmdn  : 
the  original  copy  we  bought  and  began  this  time  three 
years  ago  at  Oxford;  with  all  my  scratches  of  Query 
and  Explanation  in  it,  and  the  Xotes  from  you  among 
the  Leaves.  How  often  I  think  with  Sorrow  of  my 
many  Harshnesses  and  Impatiences  !  which  are  yet 
more  of  manner  than  intention." 

From  this  same  letter  was  quoted  above  his  creed 
as  to  freedom  of  translation,  and  just  before  the 
passage  introduced  in  the  note  to  Rubâ'iy  XXXIII 
he  makes  an  interesting  comparison  between  Hafiz 
and  Omar:  — 


xl 


Introduction. 


"  Old  Johnson  said  the  Poets  -were  the  best  Preservers 

of  a  Language:  for  People  must  go  to  the  Original  to 

Hafiz  most      relish  them.     I  am  sure  that  what  Tennyson  said  to 

Persian  of       you  is  true:  that  Hafiz  is  the  most  Eastern  —  or,  he 

Persians  should  have  said,  most  Persian — of  the  Persians.     He 

is  the  best  representative  of  their  character,  whether 

his  Saki  and  Wine  be  real  or  mystical.     Their  Religion 

and  Philosophy  is  soon  seen  through,  and  always  seems 

to  me  cuckooed  over  like  a  borrowed  thing,  which  people, 

once  having  got,  don't  know  how  to  parade    enough. 

To  be  sure,  their  Roses  and  Nightingales  are  repeated 

enough;  but   Hafiz  and  old  Omar  Khayyam  ring  like 

true  metal.      The  Philosophy  of  the  latter  is,  alas  !  one 

that  never  fails  in  the  World!     'To-day  is  ours,"  &c." 

In  1857  FitzGerald  was  copying  out  some  of  the 
Rubâiyat  for  Garcin  de  Tassy,  just  as  Cowell  had 
copied  them  for  FitzGerald,  making  all  the  more 
interesting  Garcin  de  Tassy's  boast  that  he  had  the 
only  manuscript  in  Paris.     He  wrote  Cowell  :  — 

"  Perhaps  he  [that  is,  Garcin  de  Tassy]  will  edit  them. 
I  should  not  wish  him  to  do  so  if  there  were  any  chance 
of  your  ever  doing  it  ;  but  I  don't  think  you  will  help 
on  the  old  Pantheist,  and  De  Tassy  really,  after  what 
he  is  doing  for  the  Mantic,  deserves  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  this  remarkable  little   Fellow." 

About  a  fortnight  later  he  adds  ;  — 

"  I  have  been  for  the  last  five  days  with  my  brother 
at  Twickenham  ;  during  which  time  I  really  copied  out 
Omar  Khayyam,  in  a  way!  and  shall  to-day  post  it  as 
a  'cadeau''  to  Garcin  de  Tassy  in  return  for  his  Cour- 
tesy to  me.  I  am  afraid,  a  bad  return  :  for  my  MS. 
is  but  badly  written,  and  it  would  perhaps  more  plague 


Introduction.  xli 

than  profit  an  English  'savant'  to  have  such  a  present 
made  him." 

Garcin  de  Tassy  read  some  of  the  tetrastichs,  and 
found  them  not  very  difficult,  the  few  stumbling- 
blocks  he  attributed  to  the  " copiste"  and  he  pro- 
posed to  write  for  the  "Journal  Asiatique,"  an  article 
on  it,  in  which  he  would  honorably  mention  Cowell 
and  F'itzGerald.  But  FitzGerald  hastened  to  de- 
precate any  such  publicity:  — 

"  Putting  it  on  the  ground  [he  said]  that  we  do  not  FitzGer- 
yet  know  enough  of  the  matter:  that   I  do  not  want  aid's  mod» 
Cowell  to  be  made  answerable  for  errors  which  Edward  est  ^is- 
FitzGerald  may  have  made,  and  that  E.  F.  G.  neither  claimer 
merits  nor  desires  any  honourable  mention  as  a  Persian 
Scholar  :  being  none." 

Garcin  de  Tassy  published  his  "  Note  sur  les 
Rubâ'iyât  de  'Omar  Khaïyâm  "  in  the  "Journal 
Asiatique,"  and  afterwards  in  a  thin  pamphlet  dated 
at  the  Imprimerie  impériale,  1857;  but  he  refrained 
from  all  mention  of  FitzGerald.  The  quatrains 
which  he  translated  into  French  prose,  probably 
the  very  ones  which  FitzGerald  "pointed  out  to 
him  as  the  best,"  will  be  found  in  the  Bibliography, 
Appendix  XLIX. 

On  the  seventh  of  May,  FitzGerald  writes 
Cowell  :  — 

"  To-day  I  have  a  note  from  the  great  De  Tassy, 
which  announces  :  '  My  dear  Sir,  Definitively  I  have 
written  a  little  Paper  upon  Omar,  with  some  Quotations 
taken  here  and  there  at  random,  avoiding  only  the  too 
badly  sounding  rubayât.     I  have  read  that  paper  before 


xlii 


Introduction. 


the  Persian  Ambassador  and  suite,  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Oriental  Society,  of  which   I  am  Vice-President,  the 
Duc  de  Dondeauville  being  president.     The  Ambassa- 
dor has  been  much  pleased  of  my  quotations.'     So  you 
see,"  adds  FitzGerald,  "  I  have  done  the  part  of  an  ill 
Subject  in  helping  France  to  ingratiate  herself  with 
Garcin  de        Persia,  when  England  might  have  had  the  start  !     I 
Tassy  gets      suppose  it  probable  Ferukk  Khan  himself   had  never 
the  credit        read  or  perhaps  heard  of  Omar.     I  think  I  told  you  in 
of  a  pioneer    niy  ]ast  that  I  had  desired  De  Tassy  to  say  nothing 
about  you  in  any  paper  he  should  write;  since  I  cannot 
have  you  answerable  for  any  blunders  I  may  have  made 
in  my  copy,  nor  may  you  care  to  be  named  with  Omar 
at  all.     I  hope  the  Frenchman  will  attend  to  my  desire  ; 
and  I  dare  say  he  will,  as  he  will  then  have  all  credit 
to  himself." 


In  June,  FitzGerald  had  put  away  all  books 
except  Omar  Khayyam,  which  he  says  he  could  not 
"  help  looking  over  in  a  Paddock  covered  with 
Buttercups  and  brushed  by  a  delicious  Breeze, 
while  a  dainty  racing  Filly  of  W.  Browne's  came 
The  para-  startling  up  to  wonder  and  snuff  about  me."  Then 
phrase  comes   the    curious    Latin    translation   of    Ruba'iy 

begun,  iv.  which  is  in  Appendix  II.,  and  just  about  that 

1857  time  arrives  an  Omar  MS.  from  Cowell,  and  this 

seems  to  have  determined  his  work.  He  writes 
that  he  shall  perhaps  "make  some  notes  and 
enquiries"  as  he  goes  on  looking  them  over.  "I 
think  this  MS."  he  says,  "  furnishes  some  oppor- 
tunities for  one's  critical  faculties,  and  so  is  a  good 
exercise  for  them,  if  one  wanted  such." 

It  is  interesting  to  {rather  the  Omar-touches  in 


Introduction.  xliii 

his  letters.  On  the  first  of  July  lie  adds  to  the 
same  epistle  :  — 

"June  over.      A   thing    I    think    of   with    Omar-like  Roses  in 
sorrow.     And  the  Roses  here  are  blowing  —  and  going  England 
—  as  abundantly  as  even  in  Persia.    1  am  still  at  Gelde- 
stone,  and  still  looking  at  <  >mar  by  an  open  window 
winch  gives  over  a  Greener  Landscape  than  yours." 

And  he  closed  the  letter  on  the  anniversary  of 
Lowell's  departure  for  India,  with  praise  of  the 
Calcutta  Omar,  comparing  it  favorably  with  the 
Ouseley  MS.,  and  rather  fondly  clinging  to  his 
hope  that  it  was  by  Omar  himself:  the  last  word 
in  it  is  mention  of  his  "  poor  Sir  YV.  Jones1  sort  of 
Parody." 

Then  on  the  third  of  September,  1858,  he  gives 
the  first  definite  information  as  to  the  "  Rubâiyât": 

"  As  to  my  Omar  :   I  gave  it  to  Parker  in  January,  I    First  men- 
think  :    he   saying    Fraser   wras   agreeable    to    take   it.  tion  of  the 
Since  then  I  have  heard  no  more  ;  so  as,  I  suppose,  translation, 
they  don't  care  about  it:  and  may  be  quite  right.     Had   1858 
I  thought  they  would  be  so  long,  however,  I  would  have 
copied  it  out  and  sent  it  to  you  :  and  I  will  still  do  so 
from  a  rough  and  imperfect  Copy  I  have  (though   not 
now  at  hand),  in  case  they  show  no  sign  of  printing  me. 
My  Translation  will  interest  you  from  its  Form,  and 
also  in  many  respects  in  its  Detail  ;  very  militerai  as  it    Very 
is.     Many  Quatrains  are  mashed  together:  and  some-   unliteral 
thing  lost,   I  doubt,  of  Omar's  simplicity,  which  is  so 
much  a  Virtue  in  him.     But  there  it  is,  such  as  it  is.     I 
purposely  said  in  the  very  short  notice  I  prefixed  to  the 
Poem  that  it  was  so  short  because  better  information 
might  be  furnished  in  another  Paper,  which   I  thought 
you  would  undertake.     So  it   rests." 


xliv 


Introduction. 


Still  weeks  passed  by  with   no  satisfaction. 
November  he  wrote  :  — 


In 


Fraser  "  As  to  Omar,  I  hear  and  see  nothing  of  it  in  Fraser 

refuses  it  yet  :  and  so  I  suppose  they  don't  want  it.  I  told  Parker 
he  might  find  it  rather  dangerous  among  his  Divines  : 
he  took  it  however,  and  keeps  it.  I  really  think  I  shall 
take  it  back  ;  add  some  Stanzas  which  I  kept  out  for 
fear  of  being  too  strong;  print  fifty  copies  and  give 
away;  one  to  you,  who  won't  like  it  neither.  Yet  it  is 
most  ingeniously  tesselated  into  a  sort  of  Epicurean 
Eclogue  in  a  Persian  Garden." 


What  the 

translation 

rnisses 


About  the  middle  of  January  of  the  eventful 
year,  FitzGerald  wrote  Cowell  :  — 

"  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  write  to  you,  so  much  have 
I  forsaken  Persian,  and  even  all  good  Books  of  late. 
There  is  no  one  now  to  'prick  the  Sides  of  my 
Intent  '  ;  Vaulting  Ambition  having  long  failed  to  do 
so  !  I  took  my  Omar  from  Fraser,  as  I  saw  he  didn't 
care  for  it  ;  and  also  I  want  to  enlarge  it  to  near  as 
much  again,  of  such  Matter  as  he  would  not  dare  to 
put  in  Fraser.  If  I  print  it,  I  shall  do  the  impudence 
of  quoting  your  Account  of  Omar  and  your  Apology 
for  his  Freethinking  :  it  is  not  wholly  my  Apology,  but 
you  introduced  him  to  me,  and  your  excuse  extends  to 
that  which  you  have  not  ventured  to  quote,  and  I  do. 
I  like  your  Apology  extremely  also,  allowing  its  Point 
of  View.  I  doubt  you  will  repent  of  ever  having 
showed  me  the  Book.  .  .  .  My  Translation  has  its 
merit  :  but  it  misses  a  main  one  in  Omar,  which  I  will 
leave  you  to  find  out.  The  Latin  versions,  if  they 
were  corrected  into  decent  Latin,  would  be  very  much 
better." 


Introduction.  xlv 

Two  years  later,  Dec.  g,  1861,  he  wrote  W.  H. 
Thompson  :  — 

"  As  to  my  own  Peccadilloes  in  Verse,  which  never 
pretend  to  be  original,  this  is  the  story  of  Rubâiyât.  I 
had  translated  them  partly  for  Cowell  :  young  Parker 
asked  me  some  years  ago  for  something  for  Fraser, 
and  I  gave  him  the  less  wicked  of  these  to  use  if  he 
chose.  He  kept  them  for  two  years  without  using: 
and  as  I  saw  he  didn't  want  them,  I  printed  some 
copies  with  Quaritch  ;  and  keeping  some  for  myself, 
gave  him  the  rest.  Cowell,  to  whom  I  sent  a  Copy,  Cowell's 
was  naturally  alarmed  at  it  ;  he  being  a  very  religious  alarm 
Man  :  nor  have  I  given  any  other  Copy  but  to  George 
Borrow,  to  whom  I  had  once  lent  the  Persian,  and  to 
old  Donne  when  he  was  down  here  the  other  Day,  to 
whom  I  was  showing  a  Passage  in  another  Book,  which 
brought  my  old  Omar  up." 

The  first  edition  of  FitzGerald's  "  Rubâiyât  "  was 
published  anonymously  in  1859.  "  Nearly  the 
whole  of  this  edition,"  says  Mr.  Quaritch,  "  I  sold 
(not  being  able  to  get  more)  at  one  penny  each. 
Mr.  FitzGerald  had  made  me  a  present  of  about 
two  hundred  copies  of  the  two  hundred  and  fifty 
he  had  printed."  In  1887  Mr.  Quaritch  offered  for 
sale  a  single  copy  of  the  first  edition,  "with  a  few 
manuscript  notes,"  at  £\  4.?.  The  price  steadily 
increased.  In  November,  1894,  he  advertised  a 
single  copy  of  this  little  insignificant-looking 
brown-paper-covered  pamphlet  at  £6  6s. 

It  is  said  that  the  late  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti  Rossetti's 
was  one  of  the  first  admirers  of  the  poem,  and  used  propa- 
to   send   "his  pupils,  the  earnest  young  men  that  sandism 


xlvi 


Introduction. 


hung  upon  his  Chaucerian  lips,  to  search  the 
boxes  for  hid  treasures."  Gradually  the  fame  of 
the  Translation,  which  many  thought  to  be  an 
original  work,  made  its  way  among  a  limited  circle  . 
but  as  yet  no  magazine  or  journal  reviewed  it  or 
called  it  into  publicity. 

He  still  seemed  to  hope  that  Professor  Cowell 
would  edit  Omar:  he  wrote  him:  — 


"  Are  you  not  the  only  man   to  do  it  ?     And  he  is 

worth  re-editing.    I  thought  him  from  the  first  the  most 

Omar  remarkable  of  the  Persian  poets  :  and  you  keep  finding 

the  most  out  in  him  Evidences  of  logical   Fancy  which  I  had 

remarkable    not  dreamed  of.  ...  I  doubt  I  have  given  but  a  very 

Persian  one-sided  version  of  Omar  :  but  what  I  clo  only  comes 

poet  up  as  a  Bubble  to  the  Surface    and  breaks  :   whereas 

you,    with    exact    scholarship,   might    make    a   lasting 

impression  of  such  an  Author." 

This  was  written  in  1861.  In  1S68  the  second 
edition  was  issued,  the  number  of  the  quatrains 
increased  from  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  and 
ten;  the  name  still  sedulously  repressed.  It  is 
a  common  belief  that  FitzGerald  over-elaborated 
in  the  later  editions,  and  injured  the  first  sponta- 
neity of  his  Bubbles  ;  he  himself  wrote  to  Pro- 
fessor Cowell  :  "  I  suppose  very  few  people  have 
ever  taken  such  pains  in  translation  as  I  have  : 
though  certainly  not  to  be  literal."  Yet  he  said: 
"  To  correct  is  the  Bore." 
The  first  An   article  in    the   "  Saturday  Review  "  for  Jan- 

two  editions  uary      16,     18S6,     apparently      by     Justin     Huntly 
compared        McCarthy,  gives  a  brief  account  of   the   first   ver- 


Introduction.  xlvii 

sion,  and  a  statement  of  the  divergencies  "which 
occur  in  the  editions  of  this  singularly  interesting 
poem  "  :  — 

"The  treatment  of  the  opening  quatrain  [it  says] 
does  without  doubt  appear  to  justify  the  complaint  that 
the  author  had  not  the  courage  of  his  first  adventure. 
.  .  .  Nothing  could  exceed  the  felicity  of  this  cluster  of 
Eastern  images,"  and  Mr.  Aldis  Wright  was  called 
upon  to  explain,  if  possible,  under  what  pressure 
Mr.  FitzGerald  "  tamed  down  his  Persian  tiger-cat  in 
1868." 

"  The  'shafts  '  and  'sessions  '  are  ineffectual  indeed   The  first 
after  the  heroic  imagery  of  the  original,  and  the  poet   stanza 
was  obliged  to  suppress  the  interesting  note  that  ex- 
plained   that   flinging   a   stone   into    the   cup  was  the 
signal  for  '  To  Horse  '  in  the  Desert. 

"  The  second  stanza  in  1S59  [it  goes  on  to  say]  was 
not  less  original,  and  has  still  more  completely  disap- 
peared. It  was,  however,  less  poetical,  and  we  regret 
it  less  acutely.  .  .  .  From  this  point  the  text  of  1859 
proceeds  as  we  now  know  the  poem  for  a  consider- 
able distance,  save  that  the  rose  had  a  'yellow  cheek.' 
which  we  distinctly  prefer  to  her  present  '  sallow  '  one. 
So  far  we  agree  with  the  critics  who  complain  of  the 
revision  as  wholly  uncalled  for.  But  at  the  eighth 
quatrain  we  join  issue  with  them.  It  would  be  unfor- 
tunate indeed  to  be  deprived  of  the  stanza  beginning, 
'  Whether  at  Naishâpûr  or  liabylon,'  which  is  a  little 
masterpiece  of  melody;  and  in  1859  the  beautiful  open- 
ing of  the  next  quatrain  took  this  far  less  felicitous 
form  :  — 

'  And  look  —  a  thousand  Blossoms  with  the  Day 
Woke,  —  and  a  thousand  seatter'd  into  Clay.' 


xlviii 


Introduction. 


"  Nor  do  we  carry  antiquarianism  so  far  as  to  per- 
suade ourselves  to  prefer 

'  But  come  with  old  Khayyam,  and  leave  the  Lot 
Of  Kaikobâd  and  Kaikhosrü  forgot  —  ' 


to  the  mellifluous 

'  Well,  let  it  take  them  !  what  have  we  to  do 
With  Kaikobâd  the  Great,  or  Kaikhosrü  ?  ' 

"  A  little  lower  down  the  definite  '  A  Loaf  of  Bread 
beneath  the  Bough,'  of  1859,  is  but  ill  exchanged  for 
'A  little  Bread,'  in  186S  and  onwards.  We  proceed, 
and  presently  discover  that  the  quatrain,  '  Were  it  not 
folly  Spider-like  to  spin,'  does  not  occur  in  the  original 
Instances  edition.  Among  the  noble  series  of  instances  of  fallen 
of  fallen  splendour  we  miss  also  'The  Palace  that  to  Heav'n  his 

splendour  pillars  threw,'  but  come  upon  it,  upon  closer  examina- 
tion, in  the  notes  at  the  end  of  the  poem.  For  some 
distance  onwards  our  collation  reveals  no  important 
changes  save  in  the  sequence  of  the  sections.  Of  the 
following  very  suggestive  quatrain,  however,  the  last 
line  only  has  been  preserved  since  1859:  — 

'  O  come  with  old  Khayyam,  and  leave  the  Wise 
To  talk  ;  one  thing  is  certain,  that  life  flies  ; 
One  thing  is  certain,  and  the  Rest  is  Lies  ; 
The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies.' 

"  We  presently  reach  a  point  where  the  later  editions 
have  manifestly  an  advantage  over  the  first.  It  is  ex- 
traordinary to  find  so  halting  and  wooden  an  image  as 
this,— 

'  Another  and  another  Cup  to  drown 
The  Memory  of  this  Impertinence,' 


Introduction.  xlix 

taking  the  place  of  the  magnificent  lines  that  are  among 
the  best  known  in  the  whole  poem,  — 

'Ah,  contrite  Heav'n  endowed  us  with  the  Vine 
To  drug  the  memory  of  that  insolence  !  ' 

The  central  part  of  the  poem,  in  which  Omar  Khayyam 
gives  the  rein  to  his  mystical  and  sceptical  metaphysics, 
is  treated  quite  otherwise  in  the  first  and  the  later  edi- 
tions. Readers  familiar  with  the  series  of  curious 
quatrains  which  form  the  least  pleasing  but  not  the 
least  original  section  of  the  work,  will  be  inclined  to 
compare  them  with  these  concise  stanzas,  now  entirely 
transmuted  and  dissolved,  in  which  the  cynicism  of  the 
poet  was  presented  in  1.S59. 

"  The  section,  now  unnamed  and  consisting  of  nine   The  Book 
quatrains,  which  recounts  the  conversation  among  the   of  Pots 
pots  at  the  close  of  Ramazdn,  is  called   the  '  Kiiza- 
Nâma,'  and  contains  but  eight  quatrains  in  the  original 
edition. 

"Here  also  the  alterations  add  little  or  nothing  to 
the  effect  ;  and  some  of  the  earlier  phrases,  such  as 
'  surly  Tapster'  for  '  surly  Master,'  and  the  '  clay  Popu- 
lation '  for  '  the  Shapes  of  Clay,'  seem  distinctly  prefer- 
able. The  most  curious  and  unfortunate  alteration  has 
yet,  however,  to  be  noted.  Few  readers  of  the  poem 
will  hesitate  to  admit  that  the  final  section,  with  its  ex- 
quisitely pathetic  references  to  the  poet's  approaching 
death,  form  the  crowning  charm  of  the  whole  poem. 
But,  as  we  at  present  possess  it,  it  is  marred  by  the 
insertion  of  three  stanzas  —  those  beginning  'Would 
but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain  yield'  —  in  which  the 
exquisite  tension  of  style  is  sensibly  relaxed,  and  in 
which  a  more  common-place  order  of  reflection  breaks 
in  upon  the  sincerity  and  originality  of  the  rest.     These 

4 


1 


Introduction. 


three  needless  quatrains  repeat,  with  infinitely  less 
felicity,  the  sentiment  of  the  beautiful  stanza  that  now 
follows  them  :  — 

'Ah,  Love!  could  you  and  I  with  Fate  conspire 
To  grasp  this  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire, 
Would  we  not  shatter  into  bits  —  and  then 
Remould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  Desire.' 


Three  It  is  therefore  extremely  interesting  to  discover  that 

interpolated  these  three  stanzas  do  not  occur  in  the  first  edition,  and 

stanzas  that  they  are  —  what  we  might  perhaps  expect  them  to 

be — an  addition  thrust  into  the  poem  when  the  brain 

of    the    writer    was    no    longer    running    with    molten 

bronze. 

"  Without  this  colder  patch  upon  it,  the  section  forms 
one  of  the  most  lovely  and  delicate  passages  of  recent 
English  verse.  The  last  quatrain  but  one  in  1S59  ran 
thus  :  — 

'  Ah,  Moon  of  my  Delight  who  know'st  no  wane, 
The  Moon  of  Heaven  is  rising  once  again  ; 

How  oft  hereafter  rising  will  she  look 
Through  this  same  Garden  after  me  —  in  vain.' 

It  is  currently  believed  that  the  cruel  reception  which 
Fitzgerald's  '  Six  Dramas  of  Calderon  '  met  with  from 
the  Athenaeum  in  1853  —  a  reception  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  withdrawal  of  the  volume  from  circulation 
—  led  him  to  hold  very  lightly  on  publicity.  He  was 
not  surprised  when  the  Rubâiyât  also  fell  still-born 
from  the  press  ;  and,  if  younger  hands  had  not  lifted  it 
from  neglect,  it  is  unlikely  that  he  would  ever  have  re- 
A  free  vived  it.     His  theory  of  translation  was  a  very  free  one, 

theory  of        and  justified  only  by  complete   poetical  success.       It 
translation     was  perfectly  pardonable  that  a  reviewer  who  demanded 


Introduction.  li 

exact  fidelity  to  the  text  of  his  original  should  exclaim 
against  a  translator  who  took  Sir  John  Denham's  plea 
for  license  so  literally.  But  it  is  not  as  a  translation 
that  the  English-speaking  people  have  accepted  the 
Rubâiyât  into  their  literature,  —  it  is  as  an  original 
poem  ;  and  in  thus  comparing  the  first  edition  of  this 
important  work  with  the  second,  we  have  thought  it  as 
needless  to  inquire  what  relation  either  version  bears 
to  the  text  of  Omar  Khayyam  as  it  would  he  to  tie 
Marlowe  down  to  the  very  language  of  Musaeus.  In 
the  one  case  and  the  other,  the  paraphrase  possesses 
merits  which  render  it  of  greater  importance  than  the 
original." 

In     England   the    second    edition    of   the    "  Ru-  Professor 
bâiyât"    attracted    scarcely    more    attention    than   Norton's 
the  princeps  had  clone  :    it  was   Mr.  Charles  Eliot  review 
Norton  who  first  gave  due  credit   to   the   merits 
of  FitzGerald's  version.     In  the  "  North  American 
Review"  for  October.  1869,  he  wrote  an  extended 
notice  of  Nicolas  and  of  Edition  IE     He  was  keen 
enough  to  see  that  there  might  be  more  than  one 
way  to  interpret   Khayyam's  quatrains;  he  asks: 

"  May  it  not  be  that  there  are  two  sides  to  Omar's 
shield,  —  one  of  mystic  gold,  the  other  of  plain  silver?" 

One  or  two  passages  from   this  review  may  be 
with  propriety  quoted  here  :  — 

"  But  whatever  allowance  be  required  for  the  sensual  The  deli- 
side  of  Omar's  character,  his  quatrains  give  proof  of  cacy  and 
the  delicacy  no  less  than  of  the  strength  of  his  poetic  strength  of 
nature,  of  the  subtilty  no  less  than  of  the  elevation  of  his  poetic 
his  thought.  ...   If  we  interpret  some  of  Omar's  qua-  nature 


lii 


Introduction. 


trains  mystically,  we  find  him  sometimes  seeking  satis- 
faction in  pantheistic  abstractions,  in  efforts  toward 
communion  with,  and  absorption  in,  the  Divine,  and 
sometimes  betaking  himself  to  atheistic  speculations, 
and  admitting  no  other  guiding  principle  in  the  uni- 
His  manly  verse  than  a  blind,  impartial  fate.  But,  perplexed  or 
inde-  battled  as  he  may  be,  he  maintains  a  manly  indepen- 

pendence  dence,  and,  finding  nothing  outside  or  beyond  the 
world  to  rest  upon,  fixes  himself  solidly  here,  and 
resolves,  while  all  things  are  fleeting  and  changing 
around  him,  to  enjoy  at  least  the  present  hour,  and  to 
make  the  best  of  the  life  which  is  his  to-day,  but  may 
not  be  his  to-morrow.  However  shifting  and  uncer- 
tain are  his  thoughts  respecting  the  invisible  and  the 
unknown,  his  practical  philosophy  does  not  vary,  and 
like  the  Hebrew  preacher,  he  constantly  repeats, 
'  There  is  nothing  better  for  a  man  than  that  he  should 
eat  and  drink,  and  that  he  should  make  his  soul  enjoy 
good  in  his  labour.  This  also  I  saw,  that  it  was  from 
the  hand  of  God." 


Mr.  Norton  then  translates  a  number  of  the 
quatrains  from  Nicolas. 

Of  FitzGerald,  then  unknown,  but  afterwards  a 
frequent  correspondent,  Professor  Norton  says  :  — 

A  perfect  "  He  is  to  be  called  '  translator'  only  in  default  of  a 

paraphrase  better  word,  one  which  should  express  the  poetic  trans- 
fusion of  a  poetic  spirit  from  one  language  to  another, 
and  the  re-presentation  of  the  ideas  and  images  of  the 
original  in  a  form  not  altogether  diverse  from  their 
own,  but  perfectly  adapted  to  the  new  conditions  of 
time,  place,  custom,  and  habit  of  mind  in  which  they 
reappear.  It  has  all  the  merit  of  a  remarkable  original 
production,  and  its  excellence  is  the  highest  testimony 


Introduction.  lui 

that  could  be  given  to  the  essential  impressiveness 
and  worth  of  the  Persian  poet.  It  is  the  work  of  a 
poet  inspired  by  the  work  of  a  poet  ;  not  a  copy,  but  a 
reproduction,  not  a  translation,  but  the  re-delivery  of  a 
poetic  inspiration  ...  in  its  English  dress  it  reads  liku 
the  latest  and  freshest  expression  of  the  perplexity  and 
of  the  doubt  of  the  generation  to  which  we  ourselves 
belong.  There  is  probably  nothing  in  the  muss  of  Its  value  as 
English  translations  or  reproductions  of  the  poetry  of  English 
the  East  to  be  compared  with  this  little  volume  in  poetry 
point  of  value  as  English  poetry.  In  the  strength  of 
rhythmical  structure,  in  force  of  expression,  in  musical 
modulation,  and  in  mastery  of  language,  the  external 
character  of  the  verse  corresponds  with  the  still  rarer 
interior  qualities  of  imagination  and  of  spiritual  dis- 
cernment which  it  displays." 

The  article  ends  with  a  selection  of  seventy-four 
out  of  the  one  hundred  and  ten  Rubaiy.it. 

The  keynote  of  praise  set  by  Mr.  Norton  was 
echoed  by  an  anonymous  reviewer  in  Fraser's, 
who  in  June,  1S70,  wrote  :  — 

"It    would    be    difficult    to    find    a    more    complete   Professor 
example  of  terse  and  vigorous   English,  free  from  all    Norton's 
words  of  weakness  or  superfluity.     The  rhythm   of  hi-;   praise 
stanzas  is   admirable,  and   that   with   which   the  poem   echoed 
begins  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  pointed 
force  with  which  he  expresses  himself." 

Four  years  later,  in  1872,  the  third  edition 
appeared;  but  not  until  1873  did  so  intimate  an 
acquaintance  as  Carlyle  discover  who  the  anony- 
mous   translator   was.      Mr.    Norton    brought    the 


liv 


Introduction. 


Mr.  Levi  S. 
Thaxter's 
propa- 
gandism 


The 

Academy's 

criticism 


fact  to  his  knowledge,  and  gave  him  a  copy  of  the 
third  edition.     Carlyle  wrote  FitzGerald  :  — 

"  From  him  too,  by  careful  cross-questioning,  I  iden- 
tified, beyond  dispute,  the  hidden  '  Fitzgerald,'  the 
Translator  ;  —  and  indeed  found  that  his  complete 
silence,  and  unique  modesty  in  regard  to  said  meri- 
torious and  successful  performance,  was  simply  a  fea- 
ture of  my  own  Edward F.  The  translation  is  excellent  ; 
the  Book  itself  a  kind  of  jewel  in  its  way." 

Yet  Carlyle,  in  one  of  his  dyspeptic  moods,  called 
Omar  "  the  Persian  blackguard  !  " 

Mr.  FitzGerald  found  in  the  late  Levi  S.  Thaxter 
an  enthusiastic  admirer  and  propagandist.  Mr. 
Thaxter  imported  many  copies  to  distribute  among 
his  friends.  There  lies  before  me  now  a  copy  in 
which  Mr.  Thaxter  wrote  in  variants  of  the  first 
edition  in  violet  ink  and  those  of  the  second  in 
black  ink,  together  with  an  inscription  of  "  affec- 
tionate remembrances  to  T.  W.  H."  In  an  accom- 
panying letter  to  Colonel  Higginson  he  says  :  "  The 
second  edition  is,  on  the  whole,  the  best.  I  think. 
Mr.  F.  has  puttered  too  much  over  the  third." 

The  Fnglish  reviewers  now  began  to  wake  to 
the  merits  of  this  masterpiece.  For  instance,  the 
"  Academy  "  said  :  — 

"Mr.  FitzGerald  has  done  what  the  finest  textual 
criticism  and  the  most  uncompromising  devotion  to 
literal  accuracy  could  never  accomplish  :  he  has  repro- 
duced the  thoughts  of  the  Persian  poet  in  English 
poetry,  not  merely  in  versified  prose.  Omar  Khayyam 
is,  we  believe,  the  only  Oriental  poet  who  has  been  thus 


Introduction.  lv 

worthily  represented.  .  .  .  We  believe  Mr.  FitzGerald's 
version  to  be  unapproachable  in  poetic  feeling,  and 
scarcely  less  in  perfectness  of  form." 

From  this  time  forth  the  vogue  of  the  FitzGerald 
translation  was  assured,  at  least  here  in  America. 
The  Bibliography*  will  give  a  succinct  history  of 
the  quick  succession  of  editions.  It  has  been  the 
fate  of  every  limited  edition  speedily  to  get  out  of 
print,  and  to  acquire  enhanced  values:  the  Grober 
edition  —  certainly  not  the  most  attractive — car- 
rying the  palm  of  fancy  price. 

Mr.  FitzGerald  himself  lived  to  see  the  grain  of  FitzGer- 
mustard-seed   just  beginning    that  growth   into  a  aid's  un- 
tree  large  enough  for  the  birds  of  the  air  to  build  eventful 
thereon.      His  life  was  passed  uneventfully.     He 
never  cared  to  travel.     He  had  the  "  London  dis- 
gust" in  a  pronounced  form.     He  was  fond  of  the 
sea,  and  spent  much  time  cruising  in  a  little  yacht, 
which  he  named  the  Scandal,  because  "  that  was 
the   staple    product    of    Woodbridge."      He    also 
owned  a  share  in  a  herring-lugger  named  "  Meum 
&  Timm,"  the  stern-board  of  which  now  belongs 
to  the  Omar  Khayyam  Club  of  London.      It  would  His  eccen- 
be  interesting  to  give  a  full  picture  of  "Old  Fitz  "  tricities 
and   all  his    eccentricities   of  dress   and   manner. 
He  said  of  his  family  :  "  We  are  all  mad,  but  with 
this   difference,  —  /    know   I   am!"     In     1866    he 
wrote:     "If    I  were  conscious  of  being  steadfast 
and  good-humoured  enough,  I  would  marry  to-mor- 
row.    But  a  humorist  is  best  by  himself."    Bernard 

*  Appendix  X  I. IX. 


lvi  Introduction. 

Barton,  the  Quaker  Poet,  when  on  his  death-bed 
asked  FitzGerald  to  take  care  of  his  only  daughter: 
the  poet  married  her;  but  the  "If"  in  the  quoted 
letter  proved  a  prophecy,  and  after  a  few  years  they 
parted  with  mutual  respect,  FitzGerald  generously 
His  sharing  his  property  with  her.      His  income  is  said 

generosity  n0{  ^0  ]iave  been  over  ^iooo  a  year,  but  he  was 
always  generous.  Ouaritch  paid  him  ten  pounds  for 
his  second  edition  :  he  contributed  the  little  hono- 
rarium to  the  fund  in  aid  of  the  sufferers  from  the 
famine  in  Persia.  Once,  hearing  that  a  grocer  was 
in  pecuniary  difficulties,  he  bought  his  entire  stock. 
He  is  said  to  have  had  a  habit,  worthy  of  a 
Rogers,  of  using  bank-notes  for  book-marks,  and 
after  his  death  many  of  them  were  found  in  the 
volumes  of  his  library.  He  had  a  unique  way  of 
cutting  the  padding  out  of  books,  and  binding  the 
remainder  into  a  single  thin  volume.  He  preserved 
manv  of  his  favorite  selections  in  a  manuscript 
which  he  entitled  "  Half  Hours  with  the  Worst 
Authors."  His  tastes  were  peculiar,  and  he  did 
not  hesitate  in  his  letters  to  indulge  in  criticisms 
that  were  almost  Carlylesque  in  their  severitv. 
His  misunderstood  remark  about  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Browning  drew  from  Robert  Browning  the  fiery 
sonnet  which  is  not  now  included  in  any  edition  of 
Browning's  works.  He  liked  Lever's  "  O'Dowd 
Essays"  better  than  Addison.  His  letters  are  full 
of  his  curious  preferences  in  art  and  music  and 
literature.      Mrs.   Kemble  says  of  him  :  — 

"  He  was  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  his  family, 
and,  indeed,  from  most  people,  by  the  possession  of  very 


account  of 
FitzGerald 


Introduction.  lvii 

rare  intellectual  and  artistic  gifts.  A  poet,  a  painter,  Fanny 
a  musician,  an  admirable  scholar  and  writer,  if  he  had  Kemble's 
nut  shunned  notoriety  as  sedulously  as  most  people 
seek  it,  he  would  have  achieved  a  foremost  place  among 
eminent  men  of  his  day,  and  left  a  name  second  to  that 
of  very  few  of  his  contemporaries.  His  life  was  spent 
in  literary  leisure,  or  literary  labors  of  love  of  singular 
excellence,  which  he  never  cared  to  publish  beyond  the 
circle  of  his  intimate  fiiends  :  '  Euphranor,' '  Polonius,' 
collections  of  dialogues  full  of  keen  wisdom,  fine  ob- 
servation, and  profound  thought;  sterling  philosophy, 
written  in  the  purest,  simplest,  and  raciest  English  ; 
noble  translations,  or  rather  free  adaptations,  of  Cald- 
eron's  two  finest  dramas,  '  The  Wonderful  Magician  ' 
and  'Life's  a  Dream,'  and  a  splendid  paraphrase  of 
the  '  Agamemnon  '  of  .Eschylus,  which  fills  its  reader 
with  regret  that  he  should  not  have  Englished  the  whole 
of  the  great  trilogy  with  the  same»severe  sublimity.  In 
America  this  gentleman  is  better  known  by  his  trans- 
lation or  adaptation  (how  much  more  of  it  is  his  own 
than  the  author's  I  should  like  to  know  if  I  were  Irish) 
of  (  >mar  Khay'am,  the  astronomer-poet  of  Persia.  .  .  . 

"While  these  were  Edward  FitzGerald's  studies  and 
pursuits,  he  led  a  curious  life  of  almost  entire  estrange- 
ment from  society,  preferring  the  company  of  rough 
sailors  and  fishermen  of  the  Suffolk  coast  to  that  of 
lettered  folk.  He  lived  with  them  in  the  most  friendly 
intimacy,  helping  them  in  their  sea  ventures,  and  cruis- 
ing about  with  one  —  an  especially  fine  sample  of  his 
sort  —  in  a  small  fishing-smack  which  Edward  Fitz- 
Gerald's bounty  had  set  afloat,  and  in  which  the  transla- 
tor of  Calderon  and  .Esehylus  passed  his  time,  better 
pleased  with  the  fellowship  and  intercourse  of  the 
captain  and  crew  of  his  small  craft  than  with  that  of 
more  educated  and  sophisticated  humanity." 


lviii 


Introduction. 


The  death 
of  his 
boatman 


His  death 


In  1877  liis  favorite  boatman  died,  and  from  that 
time  forth  he  gave  up  even  the  sea.  He  wrote 
Professor  Covvell  :  "I  have  not  had  heart  to  go  on 
our  river  since  the  death  of  my  old  Companion 
West,  with  whom  I  had  traversed  reach  after  reach 
for  these  dozen  years.  I  am  almost  as  averse  to 
them  now  as  Peter  Grimes.  So  now  I  content 
myself  with  the  River  Side."  He  lived  the  latter 
part  of  his  life  nominally  at  Little  Grange,  where 
he  went  after  his  lodgings-keeper,  Mr.  Berry,  who 
weighed  only  nine  stone,  took  unto  himself  a  buxom 
fourteen-stone  helpmeet  ;  but  he  often  visited  at  the 
Bredfield  Vicarage  of  his  old  friend  Crabbe. 

There  it  was  that  he  died  on  the  morning  of 
June  14,  1883.  Mr.  Crabbe  found  him  "as  if 
peacefully  sleeping,  but  quite  dead."  He  had 
written  to  Professor  Cowell  eight  years  previously. 
"  I  can't  say  I  have  much  care  for  long  Life  :  but 
still  less  for  long  Death  :  I  mean  a  lingering  one." 
And  only  sixteen  days  before  his  death  he  wrote 
one  of  his  nieces:  "  It  seems  strange  to  me  to  be 
so  seemingly  alert  —  certainly,  alive  —  amid  such 
fatalities  with  younger  and  stronger  people.  But 
even  while  I  say  so,  the  hair  may  break,  and  the 
suspended  Sword  fall." 

After  his  death  Mr.  William  Aldis  Wright  came 
into  possession  of  a  small  tin  box  containing  cor- 
rected copies  of  his  printed  works,  and  a  letter 
asking  him  to  see  that,  if  —  though  it  seemed  to 
him  unlikely  —  any  of  his  works  should  be  called  for, 
they  might  be  properly  reprinted.  He  mentioned 
by    name    the    three    Plays   from   the    Greek   and 


Introduction.  Hx 

Calderon's  "  Mâgico,"  the  C.  Lamb  papers,  and  the  His  literary 
Selections  from  Crabbe  and  his  ''poor  old  Lowe-  lesacy 

stoft  Sea-slang  "  which  lie  had  contributed  in  1S68-9 
to  the  "  East- Anglican,"  Not  a  word  about  the 
"  Rubâiyât  "  ! 

It  is  from  the  corrected  copy  of  this  fourth 
edition  that  Mr.  Wright  published  the  fifth  edition, 
in  the  third  volume  of  FitzGerald's  "Letters  and 
Literary  Remains."  This  also  is  taken  for  the 
basis  of  the  comparison  in  the  present  edition. 
And  it  may  be  stated  here  that  through  the  cour- 
tesy of  Professor  Norton  and  Mr.  French  I  have 
been  enabled  to  compare  the  reprints  of  the  first 
and  second  editions  with  the  genuine  originals, 
thereby  correcting  a  number  of  slight  inaccuracies 
that  had  crept  into  previous  reprints.  They  there- 
fore stand  in  the  present  volume  literally  correct, 
even  to  the  reproduction  of  typographical  errors 
such  as  the  omission  of  note-numbers  and  the 
like. 

The  Poet-Laureate  on  hearing  of  FitzGerald's 
death  wrote  to  the  late  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  : 

"  I  had  no  truer  friend  :  he  was  one  of  the  kindliest 
of  men,  and  I  have  never  known  one  of  so  fine  and 
delicate  a  wit.  I  had  written  a  poem  to  him  the  last 
week,  a  dedication,  which  he  will  never  see." 

The  poem  was  the  proem  to  "Tiresias."  It 
contains  some  interesting  references,  and  the  praise 
of  the  "  Rubâiyât  "  is  echoed  by  every  reader  of 
the  work  :  — 


Ix 


Introduction. 


To  E.  FitzGerald. 


Tennyson's 

dedicatory 

poem 


A  golden 
Eastern  lay 


Old  Fitz,  who  from  your  suburb  grange, 

Where  once  I  tarried  for  a  while, 
Glance  at  the  wheeling  Orb  of  change, 

And  greet  it  with  a  kindly  smile  ; 
Whom  yet  I  see  as  there  you  sit 

Beneath  your  sheltering  garden-tree, 
And  watch  your  doves  about  you  flit, 

And  plant  on  shoulder,  hand  and  knee, 
Or  on  your  head  their  rosy  feet, 

As  if  they  knew  your  diet  spares 
Whatever  moved  in  that  full  sheet 

Let  down  to  Peter  at  his  prayers  ; 
Who  live  on  milk  and  meal  and  grass; 

And  once  for  ten  long  weeks  I  tried 
Your  table  of  Pythagoras, 

And  seem'd  at  first  '  a  thing  enskied  ' 
(As  Shakespeare  has  it)  airy-light 

To  Unat  above  the  ways  of  men, 
Then  fell  from  that  half-spiritual  height 

Chill'd,  till  I  tasted  flesh  again 
One  night  when  earth  was  winter-black, 

And  all  the  heavens  flash 'd  in  frost  ; 
And  on  me,  half-asleep,  came  back 

That  wholesome  heat  the  blood  had  lost, 
And  set  me  climbing  icy  capes 

And  glaciers,  over  which  there  roll'd 
To  meet  me  long-arm'd  vines  with  grapes 

Of  Eshcol  hugeness  ;  for  the  cold 
Without,  and  warmth  within  me,  wrought 

To  mould  the  dream  ,  but  none  can  say 
That  Lenten  fare  makes  Lenten  thought, 

Who  reads  your  golden  Eastern  lay, 
Than  which  1  know  no  version  done 

In  English  more  divinely  well  ; 


Introduction.  Ixi 

A  planet  equal  to  the  sun 

Which  cast  it,  that  large  infidel 
Your  Uniar;  ami  your  Omar  drew 

Lull-handed  plaudits  from  our  best 
In  modern  letters,  ami  from  two, 

Old  friends  outvaluing  all  the  rest, 
Two  voices  heard  on  earth  no  more  ; 

But  we  old  friends  are  still  alive, 
And  I  am  nearing  seventy-four, 

While  you  have  touch'd  at  seventy-five, 
And  so  I  send  a  birthday  line 

Of  greeting  ;  and  my  son,  who  dipt 
In  some  forgotten  book  of  mine 

With  sallow  scraps  of  manuscript, 
And  dating  many  a  year  ago, 

Has  hit  on  this,  which  you  will  take, 
My  Fitz,  and  welcome,  as  I  know, 

Less  for  its  own  than  for  the  sake 
Of  one  recalling  gracious  times, 

When,  in  our  younger  London  days, 
You  found  some  merit  in  my  rhymes, 

And  I  more  pleasure  in  your  praise. 


III. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the  fre-   Omar's 

quently  iterated  statement  that  FitzGerald's  Omar  popularity 

has  found  more  readers  in  the   United  States  than   in  the 

in  England.      It  might  possibly  have  remained  the   „ 

•     j  ■         c  •     ,  n  ,        States 

prized  possession  ot  a  comparatively  small  number 

of  cultivated  people,  and  little  more  than  a  name  — 

and  an  unpronounceable  name  —  to  the  multitude, 


lxii  Introduction. 

had  it  not  been  for  an  American  artist  who  saw  in 
the  quatrains  an  opportunity  of  graphic  illustra- 
tion. About  a  year  after  the  death  of  the  trans- 
lator, Mr.  Elihu  Vedder  exhibited  the  original 
drawings,  which  he  had  completed  during  a  visit 
in  Rome.  They  were  afterwards  published  in  a 
sumptuous  volume,  the  price  of  which  naturally 
put  it  out  of  reach  of  the  majority  of  people  ;  but 
the  fame  of  the  artist  quickly  made  his  work,  and 
consequently  the  poem  which  he  had  so  genially 
illustrated,  a  familiar  subject  of  conversation  and 
Elihu  of   real   knowledge.     Hosts  of   readers    know  the 

Vedder's  "Rubaiyät,"  not  by  their  name,  but  simply  as  the 
illustrations  poem  illustrated  by  Vedder.  An  edition  in  re- 
duced size,  and  far  cheaper  than  the  royal  quarto 
first  published,  still  more  widely  disseminated  the 
knowledge  of  the  old  Persian;  and  the  proof  of  his 
popularity  is  shown  in  the  multitudinous  editions 
—  variorum  and  other — which  have  been  called 
for  during  the  past  ten  years. 

Westward  the  course  of  Omar's  empire  has 
taken  its  way.  A  San  Francisco  weekly  in  18S3 
called  the  Vedder  edition  the  Book  of  the  year, 
and  stated  that  about  ten  copies  of  the  ordinary 
edition,  and  one  of  the  édition  de  luxe,  had  been 
Praise  from  sold  in  that  city.  A  journal  in  Portland,  Oregon, 
the  Pacific  ten  years  later  declared  that  "  No  literary  event 
since  the  birth  of  classic  letters  and  art  in  the  six- 
teenth century  is  at  all  comparable  to  the  discov- 
ery and  reincarnation  of  Omar  by  Fitzgerald." 
Another  passage  from  this  same  article  is  not 
without  interest  :  — 


Introduction.  Ixiii 

"  This  Persian  poet  of  love  and  wine  and  death  and 
fate  sung  to  dull  foreign  ears.  It  is  as  if  Hannibal  had 
conquered  Italy  and  Lucretius  and  Horace  had  ap- 
peared two  or  three  centuries  before  they  did  to  teach 
philosophy  and  interpret  beauty  to  their  masters. 
Only  Omar  teaches  a  deeper  and  surer  philosophy 
than  either  Lucretius  or  his  Greek  master,  and  his 
verse,  mocking  Oriental  appetite  with  an  illusory 
veil  of  sensuality,  exhales  finer  and  subtler  spiritual 
beauty  than  the  Roman  mind  could  conceive  or  the 
Latin  tongue  express.  Omar  had  to  wait  for  the  nine- 
teenth century  and  the  delicate  interpretation  of  Fitz- 
gerald. The  two  names  are  united  beyond  power  of 
divorcement." 

Such  criticism,  originating  so  far  from  what  is 
usually  considered  the  literary  centre  of  our  coun- 
try, is  a  significant  phenomenon.  It  shows  how 
widespread  is  the  influence  of  the  Omar  Khayyam 
cult.  Mr.  Andrew  Lang  gives  us  a  tentative  ex-  Andrew 
planation  of  the  popularity  of  the  Poet-Astronomer  Lang's  ex- 
in  these  words  :  "  The  great  charm  of  all  ancient  Planatlon 

literature,"  he  says,  "is  the  finding  of  ourselves  in 

popularity 
the   past.     It  is    as  if  the  fable  of   repeated   and 

recurring  lives  were  true  ;  as  if  in  the  faith,  or 
unbelief,  or  merriment,  or  despair,  or  courage,  or 
cowardice  of  men  long  dead,  we  heard  the  echoes 
of  our  own  thoughts  and  the  beating  of  hearts  that 
were  once  our  own.  .  .  .  Who  could  have  foreseen 
that  Merv  would  one  clay  become  a  place  of  mo- 
ment to  England,  or  that  we  should  be  listening  to 
that  Persian  singer,  and  finding  our  dreams  and 
fancies  anticipated  in  his  !  He  lived  in  the  Ages 
of    Faith,  —  of  Faith,  Christian  or  Moslem,  —  and 


lxiv  Introduction. 

lo,  he  says  after  the  Greeks  all  that  the  Gieeks 
said  of  saddest;  the  most  resigned  reflections  of 
Marcus  Aurelius  rise  to  his  lips,  and  he  repeats, 
long  before  our  day,  the  words  of  melancholy  or 
of  tolerance  which  now  are  almost  commonplaces. 
That  is  why  we  listen,  because  the  familiar  say- 
ings come  on  the  wings  of  a  strange  music  from 
a  strange  place,  —  from  the  lips  of  Omar,  from  the 
City  of  the  Desert."  * 

The  interest  aroused  in  FitzGerald's  paraphrase 
could  not  fail  to  attract  attention  to  the  original 
itself.  Leaving  out  of  account  for  the  present 
various  sporadic  attempts  to  render  into  English 
verse  isolated  quatrains  which  have  appeared  in 
Oriental  or  English  magazines,  we  will  give  a  brief 
survey  of  more  important  work  done  by  Fitz- 
Gerald's successors. 
The  prose  The  first  to  bring  out  anything  like  a  complete 

version  of  version  of  Omar  Khayyam  was  J.  B.  Nicolas,  who 
J.B.Nicolas  ]iacj  servecl  as  Premier  Drogman,  or  Chief  Inter- 
preter, at  the  French  Embassy  in  Persia,  and 
was  in  1S67  the  French  Consul  at  Rescht.  M. 
Nicolas  was  also  author  of  a  manual  of  Franco- 
Persian  Dialogues,  with  notes  on  the  principal 
rules  of  Persian  Grammar.  His  edition,  "Printed 
by  the  Emperor's  Orders  "  at  the  Imperial  Print- 
ing Office,  contains  464  Rubâiyât  copied  from  the 
Teheran  lithographed  edition,  together  with  a 
prose  translation  accompanied  by  an  extraordinary 
array   of   notes.     It   must    be    confessed   that    M. 

*  The  Independent. 


Introduction.  lxv 

Nicolas's  versions  are  often  flat  and  unsatisfac- 
tory. "  Nightingales,  when  they  speak  to  the  poet, 
speak  in  a  language  appropriate  to  the  circum- 
stances," and  often,  if  Omar  has  a  bit  of  advice  to 
give,  M.  Nicolas  places  in  a  parenthesis  a  gratui- 
tous "  Le  voici."  Similar  infelicities  might  be 
multiplied.  He  is  open  to  the  severer  charge  of 
frequent  inaccuracy,  and  he  is  on  the  whole  an 
untrustworthy  guide.  But  it  must  be  remembered 
that  in  France  at  least  he  was  the  first  to  work  the 
mine,  and  that  apparently  he  was  unacquainted 
with  previous  English  or  German  translations. 

His  work  has  the  merit  of  generous  enthusiasm, 
and  later  translators  owe  him  their  acknowledg- 
ments both  for  his  own  interpretation,  and  espe- 
cially for  the  beautiful  Persian  text  so  exquisitely 
printed. 

M.  Nicolas  argues  eloquently  in  favor  of  the 
theory  that  Omar  was  a  sufi,*  and  he  loses  no 
opportunity,  either  in  his  notes  or  in  parenthetical 
interpolations,  to  emphasize  his  favorite  doctrine 
that  the  fervid  addresses  to  his  mistress  are  in 
reality  prayers  to  the  Divinity,  that  the  intoxica-  Omar's 
tion  of  the  wine-cup,  which  the  poet  exalts  into  a  symbolism 
religion,  is  only  the  hyperbolical  symbol  of  absorp- 
tion   into  divine   contemplation.     In  fact,   Nicolas 

*  "  La  doctrine  des  soufis,  presque  aussi  ancienne  que  celle 
da  l'Islamisme,  enseigne  à  atteindre,  par  le  mépris  absolu  des 
choses  d'ici-bas,  par  une  constante  contemplation  des  choses 
célestes  et  par  l'abnégation  de  soi-même,  à  la  suprême  béati- 
tude, qui  consiste  à  entrer  en  communication  directe  avec 
Dieu." 

5 


lxvi  Introduction. 

takes  a  diametrically  opposite  view  to  that  of  Tom 
Moore,  who  says  flippantly  enough  :  — 

"A  Persian's  Heaven  is  easily  made:  — 
T  is  but  black  eyes  and  lemonade." 

The  Mystic  It  certainly  becomes  us  matter-of-fact  Westerners 
interpre-  to  be  very  chary  of  expressing  an  opinion  as  to 
tation  t]ie  interpretation  of  Omar,  or,  indeed,  any  Oriental 

poet.  How  far  we  are  justified  in  following  M. 
Nicolas  in  his  views  of  the  mystic  meaning  of 
Omar's  most  extravagant  expressions,  and  in 
avoiding  the  natural  shock  at  their  apparent 
impiety  by  taking  shelter  under  the  word  "eso- 
teric," is  a  question.  But  the  Gulshan-i-Rdz 
says  :  — 

"  The  mystic  license  bears  three  several  states  :  — 
Annihilation,  drunkenness,  the  trance 
Of  amorous  longing.     They  who  recognize 
These  three  know  well  what  time  and  place 
To  use  these  words  and  meaning  to  assign." 

And  FitzGerald  himself  thus  translates  a  similar 
justification  of  Omar's  unreproved  boast  of  sensu- 
ality.     It  is  from  Attâr  :  — 

"  Who  is  meet 
Shall  enter  and  with  unreproved  Feet 
(Ev'n  as  he  might  upon  the  waters  walk) 
The  Presence-room,  and  in  the  Presence  talk 
With  such  unbridled  License  as  shall  seem 
To  the  Uninitiated  to  blaspheme." 


Introduction.  lxvii 

Nothing  is  more  unfair  than  to  judge  a  poet's 
life  by  his  poems,  unless  it  be  to  attribute  to  an 
actor  the  character  which  his  duties  call  liim  to 
assume.  There  is  no  inherent  contradiction  be-  No  contra- 
tvveen  Omar  in  his  Algebra  piously  calling  upon  diction 
Allah  to  help  and  inspire  him  in  solving  equations, 
and  Omar,  on  the  occasion  of  his  wine-cup  being 
overturned  by  a  sudden  breeze,  improvising  a 
Rubâ'iy  in  which  he  charges  Allah  with  being 
drunk  !  *  The  greater  the  apparent  contradiction, 
the  greater  probability  of  the  Rubâ'iy  having  an 
esoteric  sense  ;  and  the  late  Amelia  B.  Edwards,  in  Amelia  B. 
her  review  |  of  Vedder's  Illustrations, — which,  by  Edwards 
the  way,  may  be  considered,  next  to  FitzGerald's, 
the  most  inspired  of  all  the  translations  of  Omar, — 
may  be  quite  right  in  calling  Omar  "  a  sufi  of 
Sufis,  a  mystic  of  mystics."  It  does  not  stand  to 
reason  that  Omar,  the  learned  astronomer,  honored 
at  court,  yet  preferring  the  quiet  life  of  a  recluse, 
and  rounding  out  the  full  period  of  his  days,  should 
have  at  the  same  time  been  guilty  of  breaking  all 
the  commands  of  the  Law. 

We  may,  therefore,  raise  an  issue  with  the  Rev. 
E.  H.  Plumtre,  J  who,  after  comparing  the  anony- 
mous Koheleth  with  Omar,  says  :  — 

"  The  life  of  Omar  Khayyam,  so  far  as  we  know,  jj.  H.  Plum- 
did   not  end,  as  we  have   reason    to   believe   that   of  tre's  criti- 
Koheleth  and  even  of  Heine  did,  in  a  return  to  truer  cism  of 
thoughts    of   the  great  enigma.     It  will  be  admitted,  Omar 

*  See  Appendix  I.I. 

f  London  Academy,  Nov.  29,  1884. 

J  Ecclesiastes,  London,  1SS1. 


Introduction. 


however,  that  it  is  not  without  interest  to  trace,  under 
so  many  varieties  of  form  and  culture,  the  identity  of 
thought  and  feeling  to  which  an  undisciplined  imagina- 
tion, brooding  over  that  enigma  and  seeking  refuge  in 
sensual  indulgence  from  the  thought  that  it  is  insol- 
The  world  uble,  sooner  or  later  leads.  The  poets  and  thinkers  of 
problem  the  world  might  indeed  almost  be  classified  according 

to  the  relation  in  which  they  stand  to  that  world  prob- 
lem which  Reason  finds  itself  thus  impotent  to  solve. 
Some  there  are,  like  Homer  and  the  unknown  author  of 
the  '  Niebelungen  Lied,'  who  in  their  healthy  objectivity 
seem  never  to  have  known  its  burden.  Some,  like 
yEschylus,  Dante,  Milton,  Keble,  have  been  protected 
against  its  perilous  attacks  by  the  faith  which  they  had 
inherited  and  to  which  they  clung  without  the  shadow 
of  a  doubt.  Some,  like  Epicurus  himself,  and  Mon- 
taigne, have  rested  in  a  supreme  tranquillity.  Some, 
like  Sophocles,  Vergil,  Shakespeare,  Goethe,  have 
passed  through  it,  not  to  the  serenity  of  a  clearer  faith, 
but  to  the  tranquillity  of  the  supreme  Artist,  dealing 
with  it  as  an  element  in  their  enlarged  experience. 
Some,  like  Lucretius,  Omar  Khayyam,  Leopardi,  and 
in  part  Heine,  have  yielded  to  its  fatal  spell,  and  have 
'  died  and  made  no  sign,'  after  nobler  or  ignobler 
fashion.  Others,  to  whom  the  world  owes  more,  have 
fought  and  overcome,  and  have  rested  in  the  faith  of  a 
Divine  Order  which  will  at  last  assert  itself,  of  a  Divine 
Education  of  which  the  existence  of  the  enigma,  as 
forming  part  of  man's  probation  and  discipline,  is  itself 
The  victory  a  material  element  ;  of  this  victory  the  writer  of  the 
of  faith  Book  of  Job  and  Tennyson  present    the  earliest  and 

the  latest  phases.  An  intermediate  position  may  be 
claimed,  not  the  less  poetical  in  its  essence  because  its 
outward  form  was  not  that  of  poetry,  for  the  writer  of 
Ecclesiastes,  as  in  Later  times  for  the  Pensées  of  Pascal." 


The 

serenity 
of  the  artist 


ment  of  the 
Rubaiyât 


Introduction.  lxix 

Nicolas  follows  the  Persian  order  and  arrange-  The 
ment  of  the  Rubaiyât,  whereby  they  follow  one  ^rr^fe^ 
another  not  in  accordance  with  any  logical  se- 
quence of  thought,  but  simply  as  the  alphabetical 
ending  of  the  rhyming  syllables  chances  to  bring 
them  together.  This  formal  informality,  this  de- 
liberate hodge-podge  of  mingled  wit  and  wisdom 
and  apparent  impiety  and  complaints  of  fortune 
and  praise  of  wine  is  not  without  its  charm:  it 
quite  coincides  with  our  idea  of  Omar  relieving 
the  strain  of  his  scientific  studies  by  throwing  off 
as  the  flashes  of  mental  and  moral  moods  these 
occasional  exuberances  of  his  genius. 

It  has  ever  been  one  of  the  delights  of  genius  to 
make  itself  misunderstood  by  mediocrity.  The 
Saviour  frequently  took  pains  to  say  things  that 
he  knew  would  shock  and  stagger  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees.  Many  a  man  has  revelled  in  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  worse  than  he  knew  that  he  really 
was.  And  the  more  one  studies  Omar  Khayyam, 
the  more  evident  it  grows  that  above  and  be- 
yond the  many  quatrains  which  must  necessarily 
bear  a  mystical  interpretation,  there  are  not  a 
few  which  exhibit  a  bravado  easily  accounting 
for  the  unfriendly  testimony  borne  by  some  of 
Omar's  biographers  in  regard  to  his  irreligious 
behavior. 

In  some  of  the  later  appendices  to  the  present 
volume  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  weave  into 
a  sort  of  consistency  a  variety  of  Rubaiyât  throw- 
ing his  strangely  contradictory  character  as  it  were 
into  autobiographical  relief. 


lxx  Introduction. 

However  unsafe  it  may  be  to  draw  conclusions 
from    Omar's   poetic    sentiments,  we   may  read    a 
n«po-<ôv  lesson  of  self-restraint  in  his  style.     We  somehow 

•f|\ioß\T|To\>s    look  to  what  Euripides  the  human  calls  "  the  sun- 
irXaKas  burnt  steppes  of  the  Persians  "  as  the  home  of  ex- 

travagant metaphors  and  unrestrained  fancies. 
Omar's  con-       Omar  had  no  sign  of  the  ordinary  floweriness 
ciseness  of  his  fellow-poets.     Nor  did  he  sin  by  exuberance 

Sir  William   of  production.      Sir  William  Jones,  in  his  "Essay 
Jones  on    the   Poetry  of   the  Eastern    Nations,"  *   says  : 

"  There  is  a  Manuscript  at  Oxford,  containing  the 
lh<es  of  an  hundred  and  thirty-fii'e  of  the  finest 
Persian  poets -,  most  of  whom  left  very  ample  collec- 
tions of  their  poems  behind  them  :  but  the  versifiers 

*  Complete  Works,  vol.  iv.,  London,  1799.  It  is  doubtful 
if  Sir  William  translated  any  of  Omar's  Rubäiydt  ;  but  his 
own  "Ode  Persica,"  beginning, 

iam  rosa  purpureum  caput 
explicat.     adsit  amid, 

is  quite  in  the  Persian  poet's  manner,  and  there  are  Omar 
Khayydmesque  touches  in  Number  III,  entitled  "Altera," 
especially  the  lines  :  — 

affer  scyplios,  et  dulci  ridentis  men'  .   .  . 

iniuriosœ  sperne  fortuna 

minas.   .   .  . 

sparge,  puer  liquidas 

vini  rubescentis  rosas, 

a     >  da  calices  novo  s 

ut  placida  madid  us 
oblivione  perfruar. 

It  forms  a  queer  marriage  of  Omar's  thought  and  Horace's, 
or  rather  Catullus's,  form. 


Introduction.  lxxi 

and  mode?  ate  poets,  if  Horace  will  allow  any  such 
men  to  exist,  are  without  number  in  Persia." 

Among  the  MSS.  preserved  in  Berlin  there  is  No 
one  containing  fifteen  hundred  by  an  unknown  received 
Subhany,  or  Sabâhi,  who  is  known  to  have  written  e 
upwards  of  fifteen  thousand  Rubâîyât  !  Omar's 
very  conciseness  gives  him  distinction,  but  his 
manner  was  not  hard  to  imitate.  It  is  very  unfor- 
tunate that  there  is  not,  and  probably  never  can 
be,  a  textus  recepti/s  of  his  poems,  and  it  is  there- 
fore impossible  to  determine  how  many  of  the 
twelve  hundred  attributed  to  him  are  his;  but  the 
most  lenient  critics  consider  it  doubtful  if  five 
hundred  ever  proceeded  from  his  pen,  and  more 
careful  scholars  think  the  number  much  less. 
Copyists,  especially  those  who  disapproved  of  his 
sentiments,  interpolated  contradictory  quatrains, 
and  it  seems  impossible  to  determine  whether 
the  opposing  sentiments  which  are  often  found 
in  juxtaposition  are  typical  of  varying  moods,  or 
are  impudent  additions  by  alien  hands. 

At  all  events,  each  Rubâ'iy  is  a  separate  poem, 
and,  however  composed,  finds  its  place  in  the 
manuscripts  in  accordance  with  its  alphabetical 
arrangement  and  not  its  content. 

The  late  M.  J.  Darmesteter  describes  the  Ruba'iy  The  Ru- 
as a  poem  complete  in  itself,  with  its  own  unity  of  bà'iy,  or 
form  and  idea,  and  when  wielded  by  a  genuine  poet  luatram 
unequalled  in  force  by  any  other  kind  of  Persian 
verse,  the  repetition  of  the  rhymes  enveloping  and 
accentuating  the  silence  of  the  third  line,  which  is 
generally  left  blank,  producing  harmonies  and  con- 


lxxii  Introduction. 

trasting  sounds  calculated  to  give  a  peculiar  relief 
to  the  harmonies  and  contrasts  of  the  idea. 

M.  Darmesteter  also  recognized  the  distinction 
between  the  drinking-songs  of  Europe  and  those  of 
Persia.  The  latter,  he  says,  "  are  a  song  of  revolt 
against  the  Koran,  against  bigots,  against  oppres- 
sion of  Nature  and  reason  through  the  religious 
law.  The  drinking  man  is  for  the  poet  the  very 
symbol  of  the  emancipated  man;  for  the  mystic, 
wine  is  still  more:  it  is  the  symbol  of  the  divine 
intoxication."  * 
Protest  It  is  not  alone  his  drinking-poems  which  embody 

this  protest.  Protest  may  be  read  in  nearly  every 
stanza:  protest  of  the  free-thinker  against  bigotry; 
protest  of  the  fair-weighing  mind  against  hypocrisy  ; 
protest  of  the  creature  against  the  Creator,  of  the 
pot  against  the  Potter,  of  life  against  Death. 

FitzGerald  seized  upon  certain  phases  of  this 
protest  and  made  his   "  immortal   Paraphrase  "  (to 

*  Les  Origines  de  la  Poésie  persane,  Paris,  18S7.  II is 
words  are  :  "Le  quatrain  est  tout  un  poème  qui  a  son  unité 
de  forme  et  d'idée;  manié  par  un  vrai  poète,  c'est  le  genre 
le  plus  puissant  de  la  poésie  persane.  La  répercussion  des 
rimes,  enveloppant  et  accentuant  le  silence  du  vers  blanc,  pro- 
duit des  harmonies  et  des  contrastes  de  sons  qui  donnent  un 
relief  étrange  aux  harmonies  et  aux  contrastes  de  l'idée.   .  .   . 

"  Les  chansons  à  boire  de  l'Europe  ne  sont  que  des 
chansons  d'ivrogne;  celles  de  la  Perse  sont  un  chant  de  ré- 
volte contre  le  Coran,  contre  les  bigots,  contre  l'oppression  de 
la  nature  et  de  la  raison  par  la  loi  religieuse.  L'homme  qui 
boit  est  pour  le  poète  le  symbole  de  l'homme  émancipé  ;  pour 
le  mystique,  levin  est  plus  encore,  c'est  le  symbole  de  l'ivresse 
divine." 


Introduction.  Ixxiii 

use  the  words  of  his  friend  Groome)  the  "  utterance 

of  his  soul's  deepest  doubts." 

There    is     one    other    notable    characteristic    of  The 

Omar    which     may   be    suitably    mentioned     here,  modesty  of 

That   is    his    modesty.      Once  or  twice  indeed  he  Omar  and 

introduces  his  takhallus  of  Khayyam,  or  the  Tent- 

lators 
maker,  into  a   Rubâ'iy,  as  the  Persian  poets  were 

wont  to  do  in  the  case  of  their  Ghazels  ;  but  there 

is    nothing   manifest    of  that  tremendous    burning 

personality    which     makes    Dante     stand   out     so 

vividly  in  his  works.      If  his  thought  were  not  so 

concrete,  it  might  be  said  that  his  aphorisms  were 

generalities. 

The  next  man  may  appropriate  them  :  the  whole 
modern  world  may  echo  them,  and  lay  claim  to 
them  as  expressing  our  modem  thought.  Omar 
himself  is  wonderfully  evasive.  But  we  remember 
how  he  was  offered  wealth  and  position,  and  chose 
work  and  retirement.  This  story  accords  well 
with  the  inherent  self-effacement  that  he  shows  in 
his  quatrains. 

His  modesty  was,  so  to  speak,  contagious.  Of 
his  best-known,  though  not  most  faithful  exponent, 
it  has  been  quoted  in  application,  — 

"Of  every  noble  work,  the  silent  part  is  best." 

Nicolas's  preface  has  none  of  the  proverbial 
Gallic  boastfulness.  The  egotistical  note  is  lack- 
ing in  nearly  every  instance  of  the  score  of  scholars 
who  have  tried  their  hands  at  turning  the  Persian 
into  modern  tongues.  Nor  is  the  one  American 
translator   any    exception  :    it    is   a   temptation   to 


lxxiv  Introduction. 

quote  his  delightful  letter  disclaiming  special  merit 
for  his  work,  which  certainly  at  its  best  is  faithful, 
ingenious,  and  poetic. 

IV. 

Leaving  out  of  account  the  Hungarian  version, 

which  is  undated,  and  follows  strictly  the  order  of 

Nicolas,  the  next  attempt  after  Nicolas  to  translate 

the   entire    work   of    Omar  Khayyam    is    believed 

to   have   been    made    by   a  German,  —  Friedrich 

Bodenstedt. 

Friedrich  Friedrich   Martinus    von    Bodenstedt    was    born 

Mart,  von       April  22,  1 8 19,  at  the  little  town  of  Peine.     He  at 

Bodenstedt,  firgt  mtentieci  to  adopt  a  mercantile  calling,  but  the 

1  fiSl 

attractions  of  a  learned  career  led  him  to  the 
University.  He  was  successively  at  Göttingen, 
Munich,  and  Berlin,  where  he  devoted  his  attention 
to  modern  languages,  history,  and  philosophy. 
After  graduation,  in  1840,  he  went  to  Moscow  to 
become  tutor  to  one  of  the  numerous  Princes 
Galitsin.  He  took  advantage  of  his  stay  in  Russia 
to  master  the  language,  and  was  thus  enabled  to 
acquaint  German  readers  with  some  of  the  most 
famous  of  the  Russian  poets.  After  publishing 
translations  from  Kozlof,  Pushkin,  and  Lermontof, 
and  from  the  beautiful  songs  of  the  Ukraina,  he 
went  to  Tiflis  to  take  the  direction  of  an  academy, 
at  which  he  taught  Latin  and  French.  He  trav- 
elled extensively  throughout  that  romantic  region, 
and  after  his  return,  in  184S,  published  several 
books  relating  to  the  Caucasus.     He  was  engaged 


Introduction.  Ixxv 

in  editorial  work  for  several  years  at  Trieste  and 
Bremen  ;  his  Russian  translations  brought  him  to 
the  attention  of  King  Maximilian,  who  summoned 
him  to  Munich,  where  he  occupied  the  chair  of 
Slavonic  language  and  literature,  and  later  lectured 
on  old  English.  In  1866  he  took  charge  of  the 
Court  theatre  at  Meiningen,  and  the  following  year 
was  raised  to  the  nobility.  In  1881  he  visited  the 
United  States.  He  was  the  founder  of  the  "  Täg- 
liche Rundschau."  In  1S78  Bodenstedt  printed  an  His 
article  on  Omar  Khayyam  in  Spemann's  annual  translation 
"Für  Kunst  und  Leben."  This  was  illustrated  by  of0mar 
a  number  of  character  specimens  of  his  Rubâiyât. 
When  the  whole  work,  consisting  of  467  stanzas, 
was  complete,  he  submitted  it  to  the  director  of  the 
Oriental  Academy  at  Berlin,  Hofrat  von  Barb, 
begging  him  to  pass  it  through  the  sharpest  fire  of 
criticism.  It  was  cordially  received  by  the  press. 
Two  editions  were  called  for  during  the  year  of  its 
publication,  but  the  rapid  sale  did  not  continue,  and 
it  was  not  until  eight  years  later  that  the  fourth 
edition  made  its  appearance. 

Bodenstedt   makes   an    attempt   to   classify   the  Boden- 
Rubâiyât  under  several  headings,  such  as   "  The  stedt's 
Divinity  of  the  Poet,"  "  The  God  of  the  Koran  and  classifica- 
his  Prophet,"  "  Appearance  and  Reality,"    "  The  tion 
Bounds    of     Knowledge,"    "Fate    and    Freedom," 
"  Springtime  and  Love,"  "  The  Poet  and  his  Op- 
ponents," "World  and  Life,"  and  "  The  Poet  with 
the  Wine  cup."     But  the  classification  is  not  very 
strict,    and    many   of    those    in    one    subdivision 
might  well   find  place    in  another,  or  be  included 


Ixxvi  Introduction. 

in  the  tenth  chapter,  which  is  entitled  "  Hetero- 
geneous." 

Neither  was  Herr  Bodenstedt  careful  to  follow 
the  quatrain  disposition  of  versification.  Out  of 
about  395  which  are  quatrains,  only  fifty-eight  are 
in  the  strict  form  of  the  Rubâ'iy,  with  the  first  two 
and  last  lines  rhyming.  Some  of  these,  however, 
admirably  represent  the  ingenious  complicated 
quintuple  and  quadruple  rhymes  of  the  original. 

Bodenstedt  also  translated,  among  innumerable 
other  things,  the  Persian  poems  of  Hafiz.  His  own 
"  Lieder  Mirza  Schaffy's  "  was  perhaps  his  most 
popular  work  ;  some  years  ago  it  reached  its  139th 
thousand,  and  it  has  been  translated  into  many 
languages,  even  into  Hebrew.  He  died  at  Wies- 
baden, April  18,  1892. 


Q.raf  A  translation  of  336  Rubâiyât,  thirty  or  more  of 

von  Schack,  which  seem  to  have  been  made  from  the  English 
1878  of    FitzGerald,  preceded  Bodenstedt's   by  two   or 

three  years.  The  author  was  the  learned  Adolf 
Friedrich  Graf  von  Schack,  a  scion  of  a  family 
that  prides  itself  on  being  the  oldest  in  Germany. 
Von  Schack  was  born  August  2,  1815,  at  Briisewitz, 
near  Schwerin.  He  studied  at  the  Universities  of 
Bonn,  Heidelberg,  and  Berlin,  dividing  his  atten- 
tion between  jurisprudence  and  languages.  In 
1834  he  accepted  a  position  in  the  Kammergericht 
at  Berlin.  Shortly  afterward  he  took  a  long  jour- 
ney through    Italy,    Sicily,  Egypt,  Syria,  Turkey, 


Schack 


Introduction.  lxxvii 

Greece,  and  Spain.  On  his  return  he  entered  the  Graf 
service  of  the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg,  whom  he  Yon 
accompanied  to  Italy  and  Constantinople  as  Cham- 
berlain and  Legationsrat.  In  1849  he  went  to  the 
College  of  the  Union  as  Deputy  (Bevollmächtiger), 
and  later  became  chargé  d'affaires  at  Berlin,  where 
he  studied  Sanskrit,  Persian,  and  Arabic.  In  1852 
he  quitted  the  service  of  the  State,  and  after  living 
for  a  time  on  his  estates  in  Mecklenburg,  he  spent 
two  years  in  Spain,  investigating  the  Arabic  or 
Moorish  occupancy  of  that  country.  The  result 
of  these  studies  was  his  Arabian  Poetry  and  Art 
in  Spain  and  Sicily,*  and  his  great  work  on  the 
Spanish  Theatre.  After  1S55  he  lived  in  Munich, 
where  he  wrote  a  large  number  of  original  poems, 
as  well  as  translations  of  Oriental  works,  including 
Firdusi,  Jami,  and  Kalidasa.  Many  of  his  works 
were  popular,  and  went  through  successive  editions. 
In  1S76  he  was  made  hereditary  Count  by  the 
Emperor  Wilhelm,  and  died  at  Rome,  April  14, 
1894.  A  number  of  books  have  been  published 
since  his  death  treating  of  his  literary  activity  and 
his  services  as  poet  and  translator.  It  seems  to 
be  the  general  impression  that  Graf  von  Schack's 
Omar  is  the  most  poetical  of  the  German  versions, 
and  the  nearest  to  FitzGerald's  in  genius,  yet  it  is 
true  that  not  quite  fifty  of  his  quatrains  have  the 
characteristic  Persian  form. 

England  may  claim   the  credit  of  the  next  and 
by  far   the    completest   translation   of   Omar.     In 

*  Poesie  und  Kunst  der  Araber  in  Spanien  und  Sicilien. 


lxxviii 


Introduction. 


Edward 
Henry 
Whinfield, 
1882,  1883 


1882  Mr.  Edward  Henry  Whinfield  published  a 
volume  of  less  than  a  hundred  pages,  containing 
253  of  the  Rubâiyât  rendered  into  the  same  form 
of  English  verse  which  FitzGerald  had  made 
classic.  The  following  year  he  brought  out  an 
edition  containing  a  round  five  hundred,  accom- 
panied by  the  Persian  text  facing  the  transla- 
tions. Of  this  great  undertaking  "The  Academy" 
said  :  — 

"  Though  he  cannot  compete  on  equal  terms 
with  Mr.  FitzGerald  as  a  translator  of  the  first 
excellence,  Mr.  Whinfield  has  executed  a  difficult 
task  with  considerable  success,  and  his  version 
contains  much  that  will  be  new  to  those  who  know 
only  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  delightful  selections." 

The  "  Saturday  Review  "  echoed  this  praise 
with  these  words:  — 

"  Mr.  Whinfield's  version,  if  less  poetical,  is  the 
more  exact  and  scholarly  ;  "  while  a  critic  (Mr.  C. 
E.  Wilson)  proclaimed  in  a  later  number  of  "  The 
Academy"  that  "  Mr.  Whinfield  is  facile  princess 
as  an  editor  and  translator  of  Umar-i-Khaiyâm." 

Mr.  Whinfield,  who  was  born  in  1836,  and 
graduated  at  Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  made  his 
practical  acquaintance  with  Persian  while  he  was 
connected  with  the  Indian  Civil  Service  at  Bengal. 
He  is  also  favorably  known  as  one  of  the  transla- 
tors of  the  Gulshan-i-Raz,  or  Mystic  Rose-Garden 
of  Shabistari,  which  he  published  with  the  Persian 
text  and  copious  notes. 

Six  years  later  Justin  Huntly  McCarthy,  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament  for  Athlone,  brought  out  a  limited 


Introduction.  lwix 

edition  containing  466  of  the  Rubâiyât  translated  Justin 
into  English  prose.  Although  somewhat  promi-  Huntly 
nent  in  political  life,  perhaps  in  part  through  his  McCarthy> 
father's  distinguished  name,  Mr.  McCarthy  at  this 
time  was  only  about  twenty-eight  years  of  age; 
not  the  least  charm  of  the  book  is  the  buoyant, 
almost  boyish  enthusiasm  which  permeates  the 
long  introduction.  Mr.  McCarthy  evidently  cast 
his  eyes  now  and  then  on  the  French  version  of 
M.  Nicolas  ;  but  whatever  fault  may  be  found  with 
its  accuracy,  or  with  its  occasional  use  of  strained 
and  affected  words  (as,  for  instance,  when  he  ren- 
ders the  line,  "Those  mighty  and  pompous  Lords, 
so  orgulous  in  their  estates  "),  it  must  be  confessed 
that  he  has  marvellously  improved  upon  the  often 
stale  and  flat  rendering  of  the  French  Dragoman 
to  his  Majesty  the  Shah.  Mr.  McCarthy's  volume 
is  printed  in  capital  letters  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  he  uses  no  accent  marks.  The  capitalization, 
therefore,  of  the  Rubâiyât  taken  from  his  version 
for  use  in  the  present  edition  is  simply  a  matter  of 
taste,  and  he  is  not  responsible  for  it.  It  may  also 
be  mentioned  properly  here  that  his  translations 
are  not  numbered,  but  with  the  exception  of  the 
first  and  last  pages  are  arranged  three  to  a  page. 
They  are  here  numbered  for  convenience  of  refer- 
ence :  in  the  table  the  page  numbering  is  added. 

The    United    States,  besides    having  furnished  John 
the  only  adequate  plastic  representation  of  Omar  Leslie 

Khayyam,  may  claim  a   worthy  translator  of   the  Garner> 

.  "*  1S8S 

original  in  the  person  of  Mr.  John  Leslie  Garner, 

of  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin.     His  neat  little  volume, 


lxxx  Introduction. 

published  in  1888,  contains  152  quatrains,  which  he 
calls  "  Strophes."     In  his  preface  he  says-:  — 

"  The  collection  might  have  been  made  much  larger, 
but  it  was  deemed  inadvisable,  as  Omar's  themes  are  not 
many,  and  the  ever-recurring  Wine,  Rose,  and  Nightin- 
gale are  somewhat  cloying  to  Occidental  senses." 

If  Mr.  Garner's  book  had  not  been  out  of  print 
and  unlikely  to  be  reissued  in  the  same  form,  — 
since  he  is  engaged  in  making  a  new  version, —  it 
would  perhaps  have  been  advisable  in  the  selec- 
tions chosen  for  the  present  edition  to  disregard 
his  rather  erratic  and  whimsical  capitalization. 
This  would  also  have  been  in  the  line  of  the  trans- 
lator's preference  ;  but  having  begun  with  a  view 
of  representing  the  various  versions  practically  as 
they  appeared,  it  seemed  right  to  follow  copy  with 
religious  accuracy.  If  it  had  not  militated  against 
the  artistic  appearance  of  the  page,  the  same  rule 
would  have  applied  to  Mr.  McCarthy's  Rubâiydt 
and  the  German  versions.  In  the  case  of  the 
German  versions,  since  it  was  thought  wise  not 
to  employ  the  German  text,  I  did  not  hesitate  to 
follow  the  reformed  spelling  authorized  by  govern- 
mental rescript. 
Periodical  It  remains  to  say  a  few  words  about  the  periodi- 

literature  Cal  literature  on  the  subject  of  Omar  Khayyam. 
No  attempt  is  made  to  furnish  a  complete  bibliog- 
raphy of  this  enormous  mass  of  material.  Had 
the  German  reviews  been  added,  the  bulk  of  the 
book  would  have  been  greatly  increased.  The 
plan  of  the  Bibliography  embraced  copious  selec- 


Introduction.  lxxxi 

tions  from  the  books  and  reviews  catalogued,  and 
it  is  iioped  that  this  encyclopedic  collection  of 
judgments  will  in  a  measure  atone  for  the  lack  of 
completeness,  —  a  completeness  which,  however 
complete,  will  inevitably  fail  of  completeness  ! 

Preparation  for  the  English  Civil  Service  em- 
braces a  knowledge  of  the  Oriental  languages,  ami 
it  was  natural  that  some  of  the  Persian  scholars 
who  entered  that  branch  should  be  attracted  by  the 
Persian  poets.  Triibner's  Oriental  Catalogue  well 
illustrates  the  literary  activity  manifested  by  her 
Majesty's  servants.  Many  articles,  however,  are 
buried  from  general  knowledge  in  the  volumes  of 
the  "  Calcutta  Review"  and  other  Indian  journals. 
I  may  mention  the  names  of  P.  Whalley,  Whitley 
Stokes,  H.  G.  Keene,  C.  J.  Pickering,  and  Mr. 
Michael  Kerney. 

Whitley  Stokes,  C.S.  I.,  C.  I.E.,LL.D.,D.  C.L.,  Whitley 
was  born  in  Dublin  in  1830,  graduated  at  Trinity  Stokes, 
College,  was  admitted  to  the  bar  at  the  Inner 
Temple,  went  to  India,  where  he  rose  from  acting 
Administrator-General  at  Madras  to  be  President 
of  the  Indian  law  commission  and  Honorary 
Fellow  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford.  He  is  princi- 
pally known  for  his  great  services  in  the  study  of 
Keltic  literature  ;  but  he  also  turned  his  attention 
to  Persian,  and  in  1885  published  a  few  translations 
from.  Omar  Khayyam. 

Mr.  Henry  George  Keene,  C.  I.  E.,  was  born  in  Henry 
1825  at  Haileybury,  where  his  father,  the  Rev.    H.   George 
G.  Keene,   Professor  of  Arabic  and   Persian,  was  Keene 
stationed.     He  studied  at  Rugby  and  Oxford,  and 
6 


lxxxii 


Introduction. 


fitted  under  his  father  for  the  Bengal  Civil  Service, 
which  he  entered  in  1847.  He  became  magistrate 
and  collector,  and  examiner  for  the  India  Civil 
Service.  He  is  the  author  of  many  volumes, 
including  various  poems  written  in  India.  After 
his  retirement  from  the  service,  he  prepared  two 
articles  on  Omar  Khayyam,  one  for  "  Fraser's,"  the 
other  for  the  "Calcutta  Review."  Both  of  them 
were  copiously  enriched  with  metrical  translations 
from  the  "  Rubäiyat."  They  will  be  found  in 
Appendix  XLVIII. 
Michael  The  services  also  of  Mr.  Michael  Kerney,  whose 

Kerney  work,  though  not  his  name,  is  known  to  thousands 

of  readers,  deserve  to  be  recognized.  It  was  he 
who  furnished  the  admirable  life  of  FitzGerald  for 
the  first  variorum  edition  of  the  "  Rubäiyat,"  and 
it  was  he  who  for  the  same  memorial  edition,  sug- 
gested by  Mr.  Quaritch,  made  metrical  renderings 
of  fifty  quatrains,  —  the  first  indeed  to  represent 
in  English  the  rhythm  of  the  original  Persian. 
With  that  beautiful  modesty  which  I  have  once 
before  remarked  as  characterizing  Omar  and  his 
translators,  all  this  brilliant  labor  he  has  veiled 
under  the  anonymity  of  the  initials  "  M.  K." 
Mrs.  H.  M.  The  first  important  attempt  to  make  an  ex- 
Cadell,  tended  exposition  of  Omar's  poetry  and  philosophy 

1879  as  contrasted  with  FitzGerald's  "  Poem  on  Omar  " 

was  the  work  of  a  woman,  Mrs.  Jessie  E.  Cadell, 
who  was  born  in  Scotland  in  1844,  and  died  in 
1884.  When  quite  young  she  married  H.  M. 
Cadell,  an  officer  in  the  British  army,  and  accom- 
panied him  to  India.     She  made  herself  mistress 


Introduction.  lxxxiii 

of  Persian,  and  labored  assiduously  in  the  élucida 
tion  of  Omar.  The  fruits  of  her  studies  were 
embodied  in  an  article  modestly  signed  J.  E.  C, 
which  appeared  in  "  Fraser's  Magazine"  for  May, 
1S79  (Vol.  99,  pp.  650-659).  The  gist  of  the 
article  follows. 


V. 

THE  TRUE   OMAR   KHAYYAM. 

"  As  very  beautiful  English  verse,  no  one  can  doubt  Fitz- 
that  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  Khayam  fully  deserves  its  fame.   Gerald's 
As  a  translation,  we  are  less  satisfied  with  it.     While  Rubâiyât 
acknowledging   that   the   translator  has   been  on   the  a  P°em  on 
whole  successful  in  catching  the  sound  of  the  Persian   °mar 
lines,  wonderfully  so  in  setting  thoughts  and  phrases 
from   the  Persian    in  his   English  verses,  we   contend 
that  this  is  hardly  enough  to  satisfy  us  in  the  transla- 
tion of  a  set    of  epigrams.     It  is    a   poem  on    Omar, 
rather  than   a   translation   of  his  work,    and   its  very 
faults    have,  to    English  readers,  taken    nothing   from 
its   charm,    and   added    much    to   its    popularity.     Its 
inexactness  has  allowed  for  the  infusion  of  a  modern 
element,  which  we  believe  to  exist  in  the  Persian  only 
in  the  sense  in  which  the  deepest  questions  of  human 
life  are  of  all  time.     Its  occasional  obscurity,  too,  has 
rather   helped    than    hindered    the    impression    of   the 
whole.     People  expect  obscurity  in  a  Persian  writer  of 
the  twelfth  century  —  even  like  it  —  as  it  leaves  dark 
corners  which  the  mind  can  light  up  any  way  it  pleases, 
and   regard  what  it  finds  there  as  one  of  the  peculiar 
beauties  of  Eastern  thought.     These  points  have  less 


lxxxiv 


Introduction. 


attraction  for  those  who,  knowing  Khayam  in  the  ori 
ginal,  have  learnt  to  value  him  for  himself. 
Omar's  "  It  is  true  that  there  are  obscurities  in  the  Persian, 

meaning  but  they  are  in  great  part  technical  difficulties.  ...   It 

is  not  always  easy  to  know  exactly  what  Khayam  has 
said  :  but  that  known,  there  is  not  much  difficulty  in 
seeing  what  he  means.  .  .  .  He  may  be  said  to  stand 
midway  between  the  age  of  Firdusi,  and  that  of  the 
great  Sufi  poets.  He  still  writes  the  pure  simple 
Persian  of  the  former,  but  he  gives  us  no  narrative 
poetry,  and  occupies  himself  with  the  problems  of  life 
and  death,  sin  and  fate,  past,  present,  and  future, 
which,  dealt  with  unsatisfactorily  to  Persian  minds  by 
Mohammedan  theology,  gave  rise  to  the  mysticism  of 
Attar,  Jelal-ud-din  Rumi  and  Sâadi.  He  is  the  sole 
representative  of  the  age  of  free  thought,  which  is  said 
to  be  everywhere  the  forerunner  of  mysticism.  Though 
he  is  certainly  not  orthodox,  he  seems  to  us  more  of 
a  doubter  than  a  disbeliever.  lie  questions,  mocks, 
and  rebels,  but  produces  nothing  positive  of  his  own. 
However,  we  are  not  in  a  position  to  say  even  this 
with  certainty.  lie  wrote  very  little,  and  that  little 
has  been  so  mixed  up  with  later  additions  as  to  be 
difficult  to  recognize.  What  we  feel  most  sure  of 
His  varying  reads  like  the  product  of  leisure  hours  :  his  moods 
moods  vary,  he  is  not  always  consistent  ;  lie  will  say  the  same 

thing  in  two  or  three  shapes,  or  will  contradict  himself 
in  quatrains  which  we  cannot  help  believing  to  be 
genuine  if  there  ever  existed  a  Khayam.  .  ." 

After  remarking  on  the  various  MSS.  and  defin- 
ing the  Rubâ'iy,  Mrs.  Cadell  goes  on  to  give  vari- 
ous translations  which  she  says  are  "as  near  as 
possible  literal,  and  come  from  what  she  believes 
to  be  the  best  reading  of  the  given  rubâi." 


Introduction.  lxxxv 

First  she  quotes  two  "  from  Nicholas  "  (sic),  — 
that  is,  from  the  Persian  original  as  given  by 
Nicolas  :  — 

'  They  have  gone,  and  of  the  gone  no  one  comes  hack  (227) 

From  behind  the  secret  veil,  to  bring  you  word  ; 
That    matter    will    be    opened    to   your  need,    not 

prayers  : 
For  what  is  prayer  without  faith  and  earnest  "longing? 

'  Go,  thou,  cast  dust  on  the  heaven  above  us,  (22s) 

Drink  ye  wine,  and  beauty  seek  to-day  ! 
What  use  in  adoration  ?  What  need  for  prayer? 
For  of  all  the  gone  no  one  comes  again.' 

"  Here  we  have  in  the  latter  verse  something  very 
like  a  contradiction  of  the  former,  certainly  written  in 
a  different  mood,  possibly  by  another  hand.  It  is  the 
last  which  has  the  genuine  Khayam  flavour. 

"  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  No.  69  (of  the  1872  edition),  — 

'Strange  is  it  not?  that  of  the  myriads  who,'  — 

is  rather  the  expression  of  an  idea  found  in  many  rabais 
than  the  translation  of  any  one,  and  it  lacks  the  point. 
It  would  be  easy  enough  to  put  '  the  door  of  darkness  '  The  door  of 
into  Persian,  but  we  have  not  found  it  there.  Khayam  darkness 
does  not  stop  to  wonder,  but  he  does  make  some  prac- 
tical suggestions.  He  says,  in  many  shapes,  '  While 
you  live  enjoy  all  that  is.'  The  '  following,  which 
is  as  close  as  any  to  Mr.  Fitzgerald,'  may  be  taken 
as  a  specimen  of  the  rest  :  — 

'  Of  all  the  trav'llers  on  that  weary  road, 
Where's  one  returned  to  bring  us  news  of  it  ? 
Take  heed  that  here,  in  feigned  goodness,  you 
Pass  nothing  pleasant  by  —  you  '11  not  come  back.' 


Ixxxvi  Introduction. 

"...  He  mocks,  questions,  laments,  enjoys;  is  a 
person  of  varying  moods,  strong  feelings,  and  remark- 
able boldness;  but  he  has  some  sort  of  belief  at  the 
bottom  of  it  all.  He  has  no  doubt  about  his  enjoy- 
ment of  the  pleasant  things  round  him,  while  they 
last.  He  can  chafe  against  the  sorrows  of  life  and  its 
inevitable  end,  the  folly  of  the  hypocrites,  and  the 
cruelty  of  fate  ;  but  he  never  doubts  the  existence  of 
an  oppressor,  nor  questions  the  reality  of  sorrow  any 

The  charms  more  than  that  of  death.     He   can  feel   strongly  the 

of  nature         charms  of  nature  :  — 

'  The  day  is  sweet,  its  air  not  cold  nor  hot, 
From  the  garden's  cheek  the  clouds  have  washed  the 

dew; 
The  bulbul  softly  to  the  yellow  rose 
Makes  his  lament,  and  says  that  we  must  drink.' 

"  Again  :  — 

'  The  new   day's  breath  is  sweet  on  the  face  of  the 
rose  : 
A  lovely  face  among  the  orchards  too  is  sweet  ; 
But  all  your  talk  of  yesterday  is  only  sad. 
Be  glad,  leave  yesterday,  to-day  's  so  sweet.' 


"This  is  on  spring-time  :  — 

'  To-day  when  gladness  overpowers  the  earth, 
Each  living  heart  towards  the  desert  turns  ; 
On  every  branch  shine  Moses'  hands  to-day, 
In  every  loud  breath  breathes  Jesus'  soul.' 


Introduction.  lxxxvii 

"Here  is  another  kind  of  pleasure  :  — 

'  Drink  wine,  for  it  is  everlasting  life  ; 
It  is  the  very  harvest  of  our  youth 
In  time  of  roses,  wine,  and  giddy  friends. 
Be  happy,  drink,  for  that  is  life  indeed.' 

"  Of  the  love  verses  of  the  collection  the  following  are  Love 
specimens  :  —  quatrains 

'  When  my  heart  caught  thy  fragrance  on  the  breeze, 
It  left  me  straight  and  followed  after  thee. 
Its  sad  master  it  no  more  remembers. 
Once  loving  thee,  thy  nature  it  partakes. 

'  Each  drop  of  blood  which  trickles  from  mine  eye 
Will  cause  a  tulip  to  spring  freshly  up, 
And  the  heart-sick  lover,  seeing  that, 
Will  get  hope  of  thy  good  faith. 

'  For  love  of  thee  I  '11  bear  all  kinds  of  blame, 
Be  woe  on  me  if  I  should  break  this  faith. 
If  all  life  long  thy  tyranny  holds  good, 
Short  will  the  time  from  now  to  judgment  be. 

'  Love  which  is  feigned  has  no  lust  re  ; 
Like  a  half-dead  fire  it  burns  not  : 
Nights,  days,  months,  years,  to  the  lover 
Bring  him  no  rest  or  peace,  no  food  or  sleep.' 

"Both  of  these  last  might  be  claimed  by  those  who 
hold  the  mystic  interpretation  of  Omar's  wine  and  love 
as  proof  of  their  theory.  He  certainly  wrote  little 
about  love.  His  sense  of  the  beauty  of  nature  is 
marred  perpetually  by  the  thought  of  the  death  and 
decay  in  store  for  all. 


lxxxviii  Introduction. 

See  the  morning  breeze   has   torn  the  garment  of  the 

rose. 
With  its  loveliness  the  nightingale  is  wildly  glad. 
Sit  in  the  rose's  shade,  but  know,  that  many  roses, 
Fair  as  this  is,  have  fallen  on  earth  and  mixed  with  it.' 

"  Another  in  much  the  same  mood  :  — 

'The  cloud's  veil  rests  on  the  rose's  face  still, 
Deep  in  my  heart  is  longing  for  that  wine. 
Sleep  ye  not  yet,  this  is  no  time  for  sleep. 
Give  wine,  beloved,  for  there  's  sunshine  still.' 

Wine  his  "  Wine  is  the  favourite  theme  ;  we  get  wearied  with 

favourite        the   constant    recurrence  of    the    praise    of   wine,  and 
theme  with  exhortations  to   drink  and  be    drunken,  through 

hundreds  of  musical  lines  ;  till  at  last,  without  agreeing 
with  those  who  look  on  it  all  as  simply  a  figure  for 
Divine  love,  '  the  wine  of  the  love  of  God,'  we  come  to 
regard  it  as  representing  more  than  mere  sensual 
pleasure.  .  .  .  Wine  parties  were  in  fact  the  nurseries 
of  all  the  intellectual  life  of  the  time,  which  was  un- 
connected with  religion,  and  did  much  to  counteract 
the  dulness  of  orthodox  Mohammedan  life.  So  little 
growth  to  be  got  in  what  was  lawful,  it  was  small 
wonder  that  stirring  minds  turned  from  it  ;  and  as  in- 
cluding so  much  else  that  they  valued,  we  find  these 
idolising  the  pleasure  which  seemed  so  fertile  as  a 
metaphor  for  the  rest.  This  seems  to  me  to  account 
for  a  good  deal  of  Khayam's  wine. 

"  Still  there  are  some  good  quatrains  which  seem  un- 
deniably mystic,  and  modern  explanations  given  in  the 
East  point  that  way.  .  .  .  The  reiterated  'Drink,  you 
will  sleep  in  the  dust,'  seems  to  show  that  the  wine  was 
something  practical.     '  Drink,  the  past  clay  comes   not 


Introduction.  Ixxxix 

back  again;'  'time  will  not  return  on  its  steps  ;  ' 
'other  moons  will  rise;'  'no  one  stays  or  returns,'  — 
all  this  would  be  without  point  if  the  wine  were  some 
draught  of  love,  or  longing  for  the  divine  which  might 
have  been  enjoyed  equally  in  any  stage  of  being.  The 
same  maybe  said  for  the  following:  'lam  the  slave 
of  that  coming  moment  when  the  Saki  says,  "  Take 
another  cup,"  and  I  shall  not  be  able.'  This  moment 
is  the  hour  of  death,  putting  an  end  to  human  pleas- 
ure in  whatever  shape  our  poet  cared  most  for  it. 

"  Khayam's  view  of  death  is  coloured  by  a  strong  dash   Omar 
of  materialism  ;  whatever  he    may    think,  he    talks  of  Khayyam's 
nothing  but  the  death  of  the  body  —  a  kind  of  materi-  material 
alism  common  enough  in  Eastern  thought,  and  which   view  of 
even  its  mystics  never  escape.  .  .  .  He  refers  again  and  death 
again  to  burial,  the  washing  of  the  body,  the  making  of 
the  bier,  the  loosening  of  joints,  the  separation  of  the 
members,  the  mixing  with  earth,  and  the  return  to  the 
elements,  —  being    used   in    the    course   of    time    by 
the  builder  and  the  potter  to  build  walls,  porticos,  and 
palaces,  to  make  jars,  jugs,  and   pots:    the  future  he 
contemplates  with  most  complacency  is  that  of  return- 
ing to  his  old  haunts  and  old  friends  in  the  form  of  a 
wine  jug,  when   he  is  sure  the  wine  will  revive  some 
sort  of  life  in  him.      The  grievance   to  him  of  death   The 
is  not  the  dim  future  for  his  soul,  but  rather  the  leav.  grievance 
ing  of  pleasant  things  in  his  mouth  and  by  his  side.  of  leaving 
When  he  thinks  of  the  future,  death  is  no  trouble  to  Pleasures 
him  :  — ■ 


'  I  am  not  the  man  to  fear  to  pass  away, 
That  half  to  me  better  than  this  half  seems; 
God  as  a  loan  my  life  has  given  me  ; 
I  '11  give  it  back  when  payment  time  shall  come. 


xc  Introduction. 

"And  another,  which    Mr.  Fitzgerald's  readers  will 
recognise  :  — 

Rubil'iy  '  In  the  sphere's  circle,  far  in  unseen  depths, 

Xlilll.  Is  a  cup  which  to  all  is  given  in  turn; 

Sigh  ye  not  then,  when  it  to  thy  turn  comes, 
Its  wine  drink  gladly,  for  't  is  time  to  drink.' 


Rubä'iy 
XIX. 


"  Of  these,  the  first  is  certainly  genuine,  the  second 
doubtful.  But  there  is  very  little  of  this  strain  in  pro- 
portion to  the  talk  about  the  decay  of  the  body  and  its 
afterwards  serving  natural  purposes  :  — 

1  Whenever  there  is  a  garden  of  tulips  or  roses, 
Know  that  they  grow  from  the  red  blood  of  kings  ; 
And  every  violet  tuft  which  is  springing 
From  earth,  was  once  a  mole  on  some  fair  cheek.' 


"  Or  this  :  — 

Ilubâ'iy  '  As  I  mused  in  the  workshop  of  the  potter 

XXXVIII.       I  saw  the  master  standing  by  his  wheel; 

Boldly  he  made  covers  and  handles  for  his  jars 
From  the  head  of  the  king  or  the  foot  of  the  beggar.' 

"The  following   is   found    in   every   MS.   we   have 
seen  :  — 

Rubâ'iy  '  To  the  potter's  shop  yesterday  I  went, 

LXXXVII.      Noisy  or  mute,  two  thousand  pots  I  saw, 

There  came  a  sudden  shout  from  one  of  them  — 

"  Where  is  the  potter,  the  seller,  the  buyer  of  pots."  ' 


"  We  would  call  the  reader's  attention  to  stanzas  82, 
83  and  87  of  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  translation,  for  which 
this  one  rubâi,  beat  out  thin  and  otherwise  freely  dealt 


Intro  tl act  ion.  xci 

with,  has  served  as  foundation.     We  have  so  far  .seen   Pitz- 
no  other  rubâi  we  could  connect  with  Mr.  Fitzgerald's   Gerald's 
from  S3  to  88  inclusive.  .  .  .  invention 

"...  No.  66  [/  sent  my  soul  through  the  invisible]  is 
found  in  all  the  oldest  MSS.  we  have  seen  in  this 
shape  :  — 

'  On  the  first  day,  my  heart  above  the  spheres 
Was  seeking  pen  and  tablet,  hell  and  heaven, 
Till  the  right-thinking  master  said  at  last, 
"  Pen,  tablet,  heaven  and  hell  are  with  thee."  ' 


"  No.  67  [Heaven'' s  (sic)  but  the  bosom  (sic)  of  fulfilled 
desire]  is  also  undoubtedly  genuine,  and,  in  its  Persian 
form,  found  in  every  copy  we  have  seen,  with  one 
exception  :  — 

'  The  universe  is  a  girdle  for  our  worn  bodies, 
The  Oxus  but  a  trace  of  our  blood-stained  tears  ; 
Hell  is  a  spark  from  our  senseless  sorrow, 
And  heaven  a  breath  from  a  moment  of  ease.' 


"  These  translations  are  absolutely  literal.  We  feel 
dissatisfied  with  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  verses,  fine  as  they 
are,  for  in  them  we  get  some  ideas  the  Persian  lines  do 
not  contain,  and  lose  many  that  they  do. 

"  The  shadow  on  the  darkness  from  which  we  have 
come  and  to  which  we  shall  return,  we  seem  to  have 
met  with  somewhere,  but  not  in  Khayam.  We  lose 
the  'right-thinking  master,'  who  is  a  striking  feature 
in  the  Persian  in  the  one  rubâi,  and  in  the  other  we  lose 
the  stupendous  claim  the  Persian  poet  is  making,  as 
well  as  the  peculiar  beauty  of  what  he  has  to  say  of 
heaven  and  hell. 


xcii  Introduction. 

"  After  this  we  shall  not  expect  much  deference  from 
Khayam  to  the  religious  system  in  which  he  had  been 
educated,    nor    much    recognition    of    eternal    conse- 
quences to  follow  the  keeping  or  breaking  Mohamme- 
Omar's  dan  laws  ;    what  we  wonder  at  is  the   heed   he  seems 

penitential      to  take  to  them  after  all,  and  the  presence  of  a  rueful 
mood  semi-penitent  strain  in  some  very  authentic  verses.     It 

would  seem  that  with  all  his  boldness  he  never  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  himself  that  he  was  in  the  right, 
and  that  his  attitude  of  mind  towards  God,  the  law, 
and  moral  obligation,  was  that  of  rebellion,  not  nega- 
tion. Hence  what  we  have  said  about  Fate.  One  of 
his  main  ideas  is  Fate's  cruelty,  and  his  most  frequent 
state  of  mind  the  rebellious.  This  is  his  originality  ; 
others  have  moaned  and  lamented,  he  attacks  and 
boldly.     Fate  is  immutable;  he  says  :  — 

'  Long,  long  ago,  what  is  to  be  was  fixed, 
The  pen  rests  ever  now  from  good  and  bad  ; 
That  must  be,  which  He  fixed  immutably, 
And  senseless  is  our  grief  and  striving  here.' 

"  In  a  cruder  form  :  — 

'  Whether  you  drink  or  not,  if  you  are  bound  for  hell 
you  will  not  enter  heaven.' 

The  "  wheel       "  Fate  appears  commonly  under  the  title  of  the  '  wheel 
of  heaven  "     of   heaven,'   and    the   doings   of    the   wheel    are    very 
unsatisfactory  :  — ■ 

'  The  tyrannous  wheel  which  is  set  on  high 
Has  never  loosed  hard  knots  for  any  man, 
And  when  it  sees  a  heart  which  bears  a  scar, 
It  adds  another  scar  to  that  sore  place.' 


Introduction.  xciii 


"  Again  :  — 


'  Never  has  a  day  been  prosperous  to  me  ; 
Never  has  a  breath  blown  sweetly  towards  me; 
And  never  was  my  breath  drawn  in  with  joy, 
But  the  same  day  my  hand  was  tilled  with  grief.' 

"  But  we  doubt  the  authenticity  of  these  ;  beside  man- 
uscript argument  the  tone  is  too  much  of  a  lament. 
Khayam  prefers  to  accuse  the  wheel  of  being  '  un- 
grateful, unfaithful,  and  unkindly.'  In  the  following 
he  deprecates  its  ill-will  in  a  whimsical  style,  of  which 
we  have  other  specimens  :  — 

'  (J  wheel,  I  am  not  content  with  thy  turnings  ; 
Free  me,  I  am  not  fit  to  be  thy  slave. 
The  fool  and  the  unwise  you  favour  most  ; 
Why  not  me  too  ?     I  am  not  overwise.' 

"  Fate  favours  fools,  it  is  indifferent  to  the  sighs  of  The 
its  victims,  it  rubs  salt  on  wounds,  it  adds  sore  to  sore,  cruelty  of 
it  delights  in  ruthlessly  cutting  short  the  moment  when,  Fate 
by  help  of  wine  or  love,  a  man  has  drawn  in  his  breath 
in  ease  '  that  breath  returns  not.'    It  is  fertile  in  devices 
to  cause  and  prolong  suffering  in  life,  and  ever  holds 
death  as  a  final  blow  over  every  head, — the  one  cer- 
tainty amid  the  changing  possibilities  of  both  worlds. 

"  About  the  origin  of  things,  the  only  fact  of  which 
Khayam  is  quite  sure  is  that  they  were  not  made  to 
please  him. 

'  About  existence,  O  friend,  why  fret  thee  ? 
And  weary  soul  and  heart  with  senseless  thought  ? 
Enjoy  it  all,  pass  gaily  through  the  world: 
They  took  no  counsel  with  thee  at  the  first.' 


xciv  Introduction. 

"  Far  better  it  would  have  been  not  to  have  come  at 
all.  '  If  thuse  who  have  not  come  only  knew  what  we 
endure  from  life,  they  would  stay  away.' 

"  Again  :  — 

'  We  come  with  anguish,  we  live  in  astonishment, 
we  go  with  pain,  and  we  know  not  the  use  of  this  com- 
ing, being,  and  going.' 


"  Stronger  even  than  the  above  is  the  following  :  - 

'  If  coming  had  been  of  myself,  I  'd  not  have  come, 
Or,  if  going  was  of  myself,  I  would  not  go  ; 
But,  best  of  all,  if  in  this  world  of  earth 
Were  no  coming,  no  being,  no  going.' 


No  apparent      "  He  is  sad  enough  and  we  know  of  no  outward  cause 
cause  for         for   his   sadness.     When   he   speaks  of   his   favourite 
his  sadness     wine,  he  says,  '  Slander  it  not,  it  is  not  bitter:  the  bit- 
terness is  that  of  my  life.'.  .  .  After  this  we  must  either 
suspect  him  of  being  sad  for  sheer  idleness,  or  believe 
that  he  was  oppressed  by  the  awfulness  and  weariness 
of  life  and   its  mystery  of   evil   to  the  extent  of  real 
suffering.  .  .  .  The  pleasant  thing  he  sings  of  could  not 
help  him  much,  in  lessening  the  pains  of  doubt,  or  in 
softening  his  discontent   at    the  hypocrisy  and  wrong 
about  him. 
"He  says  :  — 

'  Of  the  eternal  secret  none  has  loosed  the  knot, 
Nor  trod  one  single  step  outside  himself. 
I  look  from  the  pupil  to  the  master, 
And  each  one  born  of  woman  helpless  see. 


Introduction.  xcv 

'  From  deepest  heart  of  earth  to  Saturn's  height  Ruba'iy 

I  solved  all  problems  of  the  universe;  XXXI. 

I  leapt  out  free  from  bonds  of  fraud  and  lies, 
Yea  every  knot  was  loosed  but  that  of  Death. 

'  Of  the  eternal  past  and  future,  why 
Discourse  ?  they  pass  our  powers  of  wit  and  will  ; 
There  's  nought  like  wine  in  pleasant  hours,  be  sure  : 
Of  every  tangle  it  doth  loose  the  knots.' 


"  This  last  has  the  mocking  tone  in  which  he  scouted  at  His  tone 
the  learned  of  his  day  who  chose  to  discourse  of  the  of  mockery- 
past  and  future,  of  which  they  knew  so  very  little. 
They  might  not  unfairly  retort  that  his  wine  and  cup- 
bearer had  not  saved  him  from  the  sorrows  of  life. 
However  he  mocks  on  :  it  is  his  pleasure.  He  mocks 
at  believers  and  unbelievers,  priests  and  mystics  ;  and 
when  he  comes  to  moral  responsibility,  he  mocks  at 
the  God  in  whom  he  believes,  as  it  were,  in  spite  of 
himself. 

"  In  the  following  quatrain  he  mocks  at  the  Moslem 
Paradise  :  — 

'  They  tell  us  in  heaven  that  houris  will  be, 
And  also  honey,  sugar,  and  pure  wine  ; 
Fill  then  the  wine  cup  and  place  it  in  my  hand, 
Far  better  is  one  coin  than  boundless  credit.' 

"  Here  he  uses  the  promise  of  the  Koran  as  an  excuse  : 

'  We  hear  of  houris  in  heaven  and  fountains 
That  will  run  with  honey  and  pure  wine  : 
If  here  we  worship  these,  what  is  the  harm, 
Since  at  the  end  of  time  we  meet  the  same  ?  ' 


XCV1 


Introduction. 


The  Creator       "  It  is  no  inanimate  wheel  of  heaven  which  is  ulti- 

held  respon-  mately  responsible  for  his  sorrow,  for   he  says,   'Do 

sible  not  accuse  the  wheel  of  causing  joy  and  sorrow,  good 

and  evil,  for  verily  it  is  more  helpless  than  you  are,' 

and  he  holds  the  Creator  responsible  for  evil  as  for  the 

rest. 

'  Some  God  has  fashioned  thus  my  body's  clay  ; 
He  must  have  known  the  acts  I  should  perform  : 
No  sin  of  mine  but  comes  from  laws  of  his  : 
What  reason  then  for  burning  fires  at  last  ?  ' 

"  He  asks  what  is  evil  ?  what  is  sin  ?     The  law  taught 

him  that  some  things  were  permitted,  some  forbidden  ; 

The  and  he  asks  why  ?     What  is  it  that  makes  this  action 

difference        right  and  that  wrong,  when  there  is  not  much  to  choose 

between  between  them,  and  when  towards  both  he  has  the  same 

right  and        natural  desire,  which  after  all  seems  so  much  more  like 

wrong  a  ijjvme  command  than  the  capricious   utterances  of 

the  Mollahs.     Still  sin    exists;    he  can  but  rebel;    he 

can  conquer   nothing,  not    even   peace  of   mind.     He 

says  :  — 

'  Abstain  then  from  impossible  commands. 
How  can  the  soul  triumph  o'er  the  body  ? 
Wine  is  my  sin,  but  so  is  abstinence  forbidden. 
To  sum  up  all,  he  says,    "  Hold    the  cup  awry,  and 
spill  it  not." 


'  What  are  we  that  he  should  speak  evil  of  us 
And  make  a  hundred  of  each  one  of  our  faults  ? 
We  are  but  his  mirrors,  and  what  he  sees  in  us 
And  calls  good  or  evil  that  sees  he  in  himself.'  " 

Mrs.  Cadell  then  quotes  FitzGerald's  stanzas  78,  79, 
80,  and  81,  and  goes  on  :  — 


Introduction.  xcvii 

"  Rebellious  as  Khayam  certainly  was,  we  do  not 
think  he  went  as  far  as  this.  Mr.  FitzGerald's  stanzas 
7S,  79,  are  a  free  rendering  of  various  things  scattered 
through  the  Persian,  which  hardly  have  quite  the  same 
meaning  in  their  own  places,  those  we  have  recently 
quoted  being  the  nearest  we  know  to  them.  Khayam 
has  at  least  the  grace  to  be  miserable,  not  jaunty,  when 
he  says,  '  We  are  helpless  :  thou  has  made  us  what  we 
are  —  we  sin  —  and  suffer  profoundly,  but  do  not  see 
any  way  out  of  it.'    For  the  80th  we  find  the  following  : 

'  In  my  path  in  many  places  thou  layest  snares,  Rubâ'iy 

Saying,  I  will  take  thee  if  thou  put  foot  in  one.  LXXX. 

No  least  atom  of  the  world  is  empty  of  thy  law  ; 
I  do  but  obey  that  law,  and  thou  callest  me  a  sinner.' 

"  We  think  the  81st  is  a  misconception  of  the  meaning 
of  a  Persian  line.  .  .  .  We  remember  several  quatrains 
on  repentance. 

"  One  is  as  follows  :  — 

'  As  this  world  is  false,  I  '11  be  nothing  else, 
And  only  remember  pleasure  and  bright  wine; 
To  me  they  say,  May  God  give  thee  repentance  ! 
He  does  it  not  ;  but  did  He,  I  would  not  obey.' 

"  Here  we  have  the  Mohammedan  notion  of  repent-   The  Mu- 
ance  as  the  gift  of  God,  and  such  repentance  is  strong   hamrnadan 
on    the   practical  side    of    the    renunciation    of    evil,  notion  of 
Khayam   speaks  of  repentance   as  something   outside  repentance 
him,  but  often  adds  that  he  would  rebel  against  it  if  it 
were  given  him.     Another  on  the  same  subject  :  — 

'  May  there  be  wine  in  my  hand  for  ever, 
And  ever  love  of  beauty  in  my  head. 
To  me  they  say,  May  God  give  thee  repentance  ! 
Say  He  gives  it,  I  '11  not  do  it,  far  be  it  from  me.' 

7 


xcviii  Introduction. 

The  line  "  The  following  is,  we  think,  where  Mr.  FitzGerald 

about  for-  has  got  his  line  about  forgiveness.  We  have  no  no- 
giveness  tjon  where   the   snake,    Paradise,  and   blackened  face 

may  come  from  ;  they  are  not  unlikely  allusions,  but  we 

do  not  know  them  :  — 

'  Oh,    Thou,  knower  of   the  secret  thoughts  of  every 

man, 
O  God,  give  me  repentance  and  accept  the  excuse   I 

bring, 
O  giver  of  repentance  and  receiver  of  the  excuses  of 

every  man.' 

"This    last    line     Mr.    Fitzgerald    seems    to     have 
read  :  — 

'  O  repent  ye  and  excuse  thyself  to  every  man  '  — 

a  sense  which  we  believe  the  Persian  will  not  naturally 
convey;  but  we  again  remark  that  Mr.  Fitzgerald  may 
have  had  another  quatrain  or  another  reading  of  this. 
Khayam  was  bold  enough  at  times,  but  we  do  not 
think  he  reached  the  point  of  offering  forgiveness  to 
God  for  man's  sins.  What  we  have  just  quoted  is 
not  bold  at  all,  being  evidently  a  prayer  for  a  better 
mind.  Its  authenticity  is  doubtful,  however.  The  fol- 
lowing is  a  more  trustworthy  expression  of  Khayam's 
mood  :  — 


'  Ever  at  war  with  passion  am  I.     What  can  I  do  ? 
Ever  in  pain  for  my  actions  I  am.     What  can  I  do  ? 
True  thou   may'st  pardon    all  the  sin,  but  for  the 
shame 
That   thou  hast  seen  what  I  have  done,  what  can    I 
do?' 


Introduction.  xcix 


"Another:  — 


'  Though  I  've  ne'er  threaded  thy  obedience's  pearl,  The 

And  though  through  sin  I  have  not  sought  thy  face,  Bodleian 

Still  of  thy  mercy  hopeless  am  I  not,  quatrain 
For  I  have  never  called  the  great  One  two.' 

"  Here  he  hopes  for  mercy,  spite  of  sin,  because  he 
has  never  attacked  the  unity  of  God. 

"...  In  many  respects  Khayam  contradicts  precon- 
ceived notions  of  Oriental  character.  Though  fond 
of  pleasure,  he  was  not  attracted  by  a  sensual  Paradise. 
He  was  not  indifferent  to  death  —  he  was  not  passive 
under  the  hand  of  Fate,  or  at  all  remarkable  for  resig- 
nation. He  is  a  discovery,  a  light  on  the  old  Eastern 
world  in  its  reality,  which  proves,  as  do  most  realities, 
different  from  what  suppositions  and  theories  would 
make  them." 


VI. 

'UMAR   OF  NÎSHÂPTJR. 

In  the  "National  Review"  for  December,  1890, 
(vol.  xvi,  pp.  506-521),  Mr.  Charles  J.  Pickering 
also  makes  an  attempt  to  exhibit  the  real  Omar: 

"  Of  the  comparatively  few  Oriental  writers  who  have  The  mouth- 
become  well  known  in  Europe,  Al-Khayyâm  has  per-  piece  of 
haps  been  the  least  fortunate.     Ignored  by  D'Herbelot,  modern 
misrepresented   and   maligned   by  Von  Hammer,  and  pessimism 
made  the   mouthpiece   of  a   purely  modern  pessimism 
by  his  most  successful  translator,  the  shade  of  the  old 
Hakim,  were  it  not  long  ago  well   lulled   to   sleep  be- 


Introduction. 


neath  the  ancestral  roses,  might  justly  have  risen  in 
reproach  of  a  misbelieving  and  unsympathetic  genera- 
tion which  deems  itself  wiser  than  the  children  of  the 
Dawn. 
A  faultless  "The   brilliant   paraphrase    of     Edward    FitzGerakl 

English  has  made  the  name  of  'Umar  somewhat  of  a  house- 

poem  hold   word.       As    an    English   poem    it    is   so   nearly 

faultless  that,  for  those  to  whom  its  haunting  music 
has  been  a  companion  of  years,  to  balance  calmly  its 
merits  and  defects  would  be  no  easy  task.  But  when 
we  compare  it  with  the  original,  we  are  surprised  to 
find  how  much  of  the  English  version  is  original  too. 
.  .  .  Among  a  considerable  section  of  his  Oriental 
readers,  as  in  the  parallel  case  of  Ilâfiz,  and,  since  Von 
Hammer's  time,  in  Europe  generally,  'Umar  has  had 
to  bear  the  character  of  a  poetic  black  sheep.  Follow- 
ing in  the  track  of  the  author  of  the  Geschickte  der 
schoiien  Redekünste  Persiens,  the  translator,  while  invest- 
ing his  subject  with  a  beauty  of  rhythm  and  phrase 
that  reminds  us  rather  of  the  Laureate  than  of  any 
English  songster,  throws  the  sceptical  side  of  'Umar's 
genius  into  still  darker  shadow,  so  that  the  vacillating 
doubt  and  despondency  of  the  Persian  grow  in  his 
A  paean  of  hands  a  prean  of  passionate  denial  and  defiance.  It 
protest  would,  however,    be    unfair  to    contend    that   for   this 

there  is  positively  no  warrant  in  the  original.  Lawless 
and  uncertain  thoughts  occur,  but  they  seem  rather  to 
be  thrown  out  at  random,  stray  sparks  from  the 
furnace  of  a  fiery  spirit,  ill  at  ease  with  itself,  than 
parts  of  a  deliberate  system  of  Ileinesque  mockery  or 
of  Byronic  scorn.  Phrases  scattered  here  and  there 
throughout  the  Rubâ'iyât  are  given  an  emphasis  and 
used  in  a  sequence  their  author  would  have  been  the 
first  to  disown.  .  .  .  That  his  powerful  and  original 
intellect    sometimes    led    him    to    the    threshold    of    a 


Introduction.  ci 

broader  truth,  faith  in  which   had  risen   on  the  basis 
of   an    'honest  doubt,'   which  feebler  minds   so    little 
understood,  seems    no  less  certain.     Few   of   his  suc- 
cessors ever    rose    so    high.       The    lighter   or   looser  A  new  con- 
rhymes  amid  which  these  passages  occur,  'like  sparks  ception  of 
among  the   stubble,'   and  whose  proximity  is    due   to   Omar 
that  odd  Eastern  fashion  which  ranges  poems  accord-  Khayyam 
ing  to  the  alphabetic  sequence  of  their  terminal  letters, 
only  serve  to  heighten  by  contrast  the  effect  of  these 
loftier  utterances,  which,   if  gathered  together,  would 
yield  quite  a  new  conception  of  'U mar's  character  and 
genius. 

"...  It  is  remarkable  that  nearly  all  that  is  best  in 
the  history  and  literature  of  Persia  has  come  from 
Khurâsân.  That  highland  region,  whose  mountains 
often  rise  to  an  elevation  of  twelve  or  thirteen  thousand 
feet,  seems  to  have  been  peculiarly  fitted  to  foster  a 
strain  of  hardy  intellectual  growth,  which,  grafted  on 
the  product  of  the  rich  soil  of  historic  Iran,  was  to  blos- 
som in  strange  and  beautiful  fertility.  The  Banû  Bar- 
mak,  that  premier  clan  of  the  old  Guebre  aristocracy 
of  Persia,  extirpated  at  one  fell  swoop  by  the  relentless 
suspicion  of  the  most  fortunate  of  the  Khalîfs,  origi- 
nated in  Khurâsân.  The  Ahlu  's-Sâmân,  the  nursing  The  home 
fathers  of  Persian  letters,  traced  their  ancestry  to  a  like  of  Persian 
source;  and  it  was  at  the  brilliant  court  of  Abu  Nasr,  poetry 
lord  of  Khurasan  and  Transoxiana,  that  the  genius  of 
Master  Rûdagî,  the  proto-poet  of  modern  Iran,  was 
cultivated  to  an  almost  phenomenal  activity  by  showers 
of  unstinted  gold;  and  here  it  was  that  Persia's  loftiest 
and  most  human  singer,  the  immortal  Firdausî,  was 
born.  'Umar,  therefore,  from  his  cradle  could  not  but 
have  been  breathing  a  poetic  air  ;  and  his  love  for  his 
native  land  is  testified  by  the  Heimweh,  which  led  him, 
in  the  full  sunshine  of  imperial  favour,  and  at  the  apex 


Cil 


Introduction. 


of  his  scientific  fame,  to  seek  retirement  for  the  rest  of 
his  days  at  Nîshâpûr." 


After  concisely  giving  a  sketch  of  his  life,  the 
author  goes  on  :  — 

"  The  snatches  of  song  which  have  immortalized  his 
name  seem  to  have  been  his  relaxation  from  the  strain 
Omar,  of  professional  toil.     In  this  he    offers    a  striking   re- 

Dante,  and     semblance    to   two    of  the   greatest    poets   of   Europe, 
Goethe  Dante  and  Goethe,  to  whom  the  pursuit  of  knowledge 

was  the  business  of  life,  and  to  sing  of  it  their  recrea- 
tion. A  passionate  devotion  to  natural  science  is  char- 
acteristic of  all  three,  and  in  each  we  see  a  yearning 
love  of  human  sympathy,  and  a  power  of  pure  and  lofty 
friendship  which  reminds  us  of  '  the  antique  world.' 

"  But  from  all  accounts  it  seems,  as  indeed  one  might 
gather  from  his  verses,  that  'Umar's  devotion  even  to 
science  was  not  that  of  an  anchorite.  '  Persian  chroni- 
clers tell  us,'  says  M.  Nicolas,  'that  Khayyam  was 
much  given  to  converse  and  quaff  wine  with  his 
friends  in  moonlit  evenings  on  the  terrace  of  his  house, 
he  seated  upon  a  carpet  with  a  Sâqî,  who,  cup  in  hand, 
offered  the  wine  to  all  the  joyous  company  in  turn,'  — 
an  usage  which,  with  the  substitution  of  the  crystal 
decanter  for  the  terra-cotta  cruse  and  the  wine-glass 
for  the  cup  of  copper,  still  holds  in  Persia  at  the 
present  day  .  .  . 
Poetical  "  It  has  been  suggested  by  Von  Hammer  that  'Umar's 

rivalries  flings   at   philosophy  were    stimulated  by  envy  at   the 

fame  and  fortune  of  Amîr  Mûizî,  who  had  risen  from 
the  position  of  a  sipâhî  ('sepoy'),  or  common  soldier, 
to  be  the  Dichter-könig,  or  laureate  of  Malik  Shah,  and 
'  ever  in  his  favour,' as  the  historian  informs  us.  This 
singer  was  a    Sûfî  mystic  of  undoubted  sincerity,  and. 


Introduction.  ciii 

so  far  as  can  be  seen  from  the  specimens  given  by 
Von  Hammer,  held  opinions  not  widely  differing  from 
those  of 'Umar  himself.  One  very  characteristic ghazal 
chants  a  lofty  pantheism,  in  terms  well-nigh  identical 
with  'Umar's  own.  It  might  be,  indeed,  that  at  mo- 
ments when  the  doubting  questioning  spirit  had  set  in, 
the  Khurâsânî  took  expressions  of  his  famous  con- 
temporary in  vain;  and,  of  course,  it  is  not  impossible 
that  some  personal  rivalry  between  the  two  poets  may 
have  existed,  although  such  a  feeling  was  alien  to  the 
self-contained  and  independent  character  of  the  author 
of  the  Kubifiyat. 

"  After  all,  Khayyam's  mockery  is  more  at    the  ex-  Omar's 
pense  of  self  than  of  others,  and  his  satire  is  evidently  mockery 
reserved  for  the  pretenders  to  divine  knowledge;   e.g., 
in  the  last  quatrain  [No.  464  in  the  edition  of  Nicolas, 
whose   edition   is   constantly   used    in    this   article]  he 
says  :  — 

'  They  who  an  ocean  are  of  virtues  and  of  wit, 
By  whose  consummate  glory  are  all  their  fellows  lit, 

Out  of  this  obscure  slumber  find  us  not  a  way, 
Tell  us  an  old-wives'  tale  and  fall  asleep  in  it.' 

"  Elsewhere  he  brings  out  more  clearly  the  cause  of 
his  dissatisfaction:  — 

'  Those  who  the  whole  world's  quintessential  spirit  ap- 
pear, 
Who    wing     their     contemplation    past    the    crowning 
sphere, 
For  all  they  know  of  Thee,  are   like   the  heavens 
themselves  : 
Dizzied  and  in  amaze,  they  bow  the  head  in  fear.'  (120) 


Man  the 
quintes- 
sence of 
the  world 


civ  Introduction. 

"  He  shadows  forth  the  remedy  in  another  passage, 
where  also  man,  as  the  microcosm,  is  termed  the 
quintessence  (khalâsaA)  of  the  world,  and  which  may 
help  us  as  a  clue  to  the  meaning  of  many  of  his  ambigu- 
ous utterances  about  wine:  — 

'  O  thou,  who  art  the  Kosmos'  quintessential  strain, 
For  a  brief  breath  let  be  the  worry  of  loss  and  gain  ; 

Take  but  one  cup  from  the  eternal  Sâqî,  take, 
And  go  forever  free  from  the   two  worlds'  grief  and 
pain.'  (319) 


Mystic  "The  thought  that  one  draught  of   the  mystic  wine, 

wine  the  love-passion   of  the  Eternal,  induces  oblivion  alike 

of  natural  and  supernatural  hope  and  fear,  is  elsewhere 
expressed  under  a  different  symbolism  :  — 

'  In  convent  and  in  college,  synagogue  and  church, 
Of  Hell  they  live  in  fear,  for  Paradise  they  search  ; 

But  whoso  once  hath  known  the  mysteries  of  God 
Will    never   let  such    weeds   his   soul's    fair    field  be- 
smirch.'    (46) 

"And  in   another   quatrain  the   quietist   doctrine  is 
enunciated  with  a  still  greater  boldness  :  — 

'  Each  heart  wherein  He  kneads  the  leavening  light  of 
love, 
Whether  a  haunter  of  mosque  or  synagogue  he  prove, 

In  the  great  book  of  love  if  he  his  name  hath  writ 
Is  free  from  Hell  and  free  from  Paradise  above.'  (60) 


"  This  conclusion  reminds  us  of  the  beautiful  legend 
of  Abu  bin  Adham,  so  gracefully  and  tenderly  versified 
by  Leigh  Hunt, — 

'  Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow  men/ 


Introduction.  cv 

but  that  'Umar's  love  is  rather  the  divine  affection 
which  rounds  all  human  brotherhood  and  charity  in  its 
perfect  orb. 

"The  formalism  of  current  Orthodoxy  seems  to  have  His  hatred 
exercised  the  mind  of  'Umar  in  no  little  degree,  and  of  hypocrisy 
accounts  for  much  of  his  apparent  irreverence,  lie 
frequently  takes  up  his  parable  against  the  Pharisees 
and  hypocrites  of  his  day,  and  their  practice  of  making 
long  prayers  arouses  his  especial  dislike.  To  him  the 
humble  hope  that  trusts  and  is  not  afraid  is  a  truer 
adoration  than  that  which  clothes  itself  into  the  garb 
of  liturgical  forms:  — 

'  They  are  gone,  the  travellers,  and  ne'er  a  one  returns 
To  tell  of  aught  beyond  the  mystic  Veil  that  burns  ; 

Thy  work  were  better  done  by  espérance  than  prayer, 
For   without    Truth    and    Hope    no   prayer    a   profit 
earns.'  (227) 

"  The  above  reads  like  the  recantation  of  an  utterance 
closing  with  the  same  rime-cadence  of  which  it  is  the 
perfect  antithesis  :  — 

'  Of  all  the  travellers  who  tread  the  long,  long  way, 
Has  one  returned  for  me  to  ask  him  news,  I  pray  ? 

Take  care  lest  thou  within  this  little  inn  of  life 
Leave  aught  on  the  score  of  hope  ;  thou  'It  not  re-view 
the  day.'  (217) 

"  In  reading  the  Rubâ'iyât  we  seem  to  be  spectators  The 
of  a   '  life-drama,'   a   master-spirit's    progress   and   de-  Rubâiyât  a 
velopment  through  the  clash  and  conflict  of  the  eternal  life  drama 
Yea  and  Nay  ;  not  less  so,  though  less  fully  expressed, 
than   that  of  Carlyle  in  Sartor,  Shakspeare  in  the  Son- 
nets, or  Tennyson   in  In  Memoriam.     When  we  begin 


CV1 


Introduction. 


to  trace   our    way  through  the  sad  jumble  of   thought 
produced  by  the  alphabetical  arrangement  of  the  qua- 
trains, no  two  of  which  were  probably  more  consecutive 
than  a  pair  of  Greek  epigrams,  we  cannot  but  be  con- 
Three  scious  of  three  dominant  moods  of  mind,  if  not  periods 
moods  of         of  mental  development, — epicurean,  sceptical,  mystic, 
mind  Infinite  and  well-nigh  imperceptible  are  the  gradations 
whereby  the  exhortation  to    mere  physical  enjoyment, 
the   joyous  and  thoughtless  spirit  of  youth,  pass  over 
into  the  bitter  or  sorrowful  questioning  of  a  soul  with- 
out   God   or  hope    in    the    world;    and    these,    again, 
through  the  self-abasement  of   conscious  sin,  into   the 
calm  and  deliberate  utterance  of  trust,  or  the  half-enig- 
matical rapture  of  one  who  sees  beyond  the  veil. 

"  And  as  every  great  spirit  exists  no  less  as  the  child 
of  his  own  age  than  '  for  all  time,'  so  we  may  consider 
How  in-  'Ulnar's  earlier  compositions  to  have   been  influenced 

fluenced  if  not  inspired  by  the  prevailing  fashion  of   the  time, 

and  inspired  with  its  princely  symposiums  and  feasts  of  reason,  and 
not  a  little  by  the  graceful  wine-songs  of  Avicenna 
(d.  1037),  in  whom  also  science  blossomed  into  poetry: 
as  in  his  after  days,  grown  wiser  by  the  discipline  of 
intellectual  defeat,  he  became  more  and  more  in  har- 
mony with  that  profounder  cast  of  thought  and  feeling 
which  found,  a  few  years  later,  so  grand  an  exponent 
in  Jalâlu'd-dîn  of  Iconium,  and  an  interpreter  to  the 
world  in  Sa'adî  of  Shirâz.  It  is  the  remark  of  Von 
Hammer  that  a  sceptical  era  is  followed  no  less  in 
nations  than  in  individuals  by  a  period  of  mystic  de- 
votion, and  the  religious  revival  which  is  its  external 
token  and  garb. 

"  We  need  not,  therefore,  be  discouraged  by  the 
strange  ambiguity  of  many  of  'Ulnar's  utterances, 
where  it  seems  equally  difficult  to  accept  the  literal  or 
parabolic  sense.  .  .  . 


Introduction.  cvii 

"  'Ulnar's  wine-epigram  is  sometimes  so  dark  a  say-  Pleasure  in 
Ing,  that  for  lack  of  an  interpreter  we  are  fain  tu  leave  it  mystifying 
in  its  own  melodious  obscurity,  not  without  a  shrewd 
suspicion  that  he,  like  other  powerful  minds,  is  occa- 
sionally apt  to  take  pleasure  in  mystifying  his  hearers, 
and  to  send  forth  his  poetic  shafts,  (fjcovavra  œvvÎtoktiv, 
without  very  much  care  as  to  where  and  who  the  'un- 
derstanding' may  be.  His  friends  would  hold  the  key, 
and  that  was  enough  for  him. 

"There  is  a  strange  and  terribly  audacious  play  of 
fancy  about  the  following,  which  may  or  may  not  be 
figurative  :  — 

'  When  I  am  dead,  my  friends,  wash  me  with  vintage 
rare, 
Wine  and  the  goblet  o'er  me  invoke  in  lieu  of  prayer  ; 

On  Resurrection  Day,  if  ye  would  seek  my  lair, 
Look  for  me  'neath  the  dust  our  wine-house  portals 
bear.'     (7) 

"  Elsewhere  he  recurs  to  the  same  thought  :  — 

'  0  my  beloved  companions,  hearten  me  with  wine, 
And  make  ye  ruby  red  this  umbered  face  of  mine; 
Wash  ye  with  wine  my  corpse  when  I  am  cold  and 
dead 
And  make  my  coffin  wood  of  timber  of  the  vine.'    (109) 

"By  comparison  with  the  following  we  get  a  little 
light  :  - 

'TheKurân,  which  men  use  to  call   "the  Word  sub-  "Mahin 

lime,"  Kalâm,"  or 
Not  constantly  they  read,  only  from  time  to  tim<  ;  Word  sub- 
but  on  the  Beaker's  brim  is  written  a  verse  of  light  lime 
Which  men  forevermore  may  read  in  every  clime.'  (11) 


cviii  Introduction. 

The  esoteric  "  According  to  the  exoteric  (zâhirî)  sense,  this  of 
interpréta-  course  means  merely  that  potation  is  better  than  devo- 
tion  tion  ;  but,  as  the  Teheran  Sûfî  pointed  out  to  Nicolas, 

there  is  another  and  an  esoteric  [bâtinî)  which  inter- 
prets the  wine-cup  as  the  world  of  phenomena,  brim- 
ming with  the  love  of  God,  and  the  inscription  on  the 
lip  the  apocalypse  of  Himself  in  creation,  which,  unlike 
the  scrolls  of  mortal  prophets,  is  ever  open  to  those 
unto  whose  eyes  it  is  given  to  see.  In  another  place 
(196)  he  gives  to  the  thought,  if  we  may  interpret  it  in 
the  above  sense,  a  still  more  mystical  expression  :  — 

'  Drink  thou  of  this  :  it  is  the  wine  of  life  eterne  ; 
Drink  !  'tis  the  reservoir  whence  joys  of  youth  ye  earn  ; 

'Tis  burning  like  the  fire,  yet  lighteneth  our  face 
Even  like  the  Water  of  Life  ;  drink  deeply  from  the 
urn.' 

2  Esdras,  "  To  this  passage  there  is  rather  a  remarkable  parallel 

xiv.  39,  40  in  the  Jewish-Christian  apocryphal  Book  of  Esdras. 
The  prophet,  watching  under  the  oak-tree  for  his  revela- 
tion, has  a  vision  of  the  Lord  :  '  Behold,  he  reached  me 
a  full  cup,  which  was  full  as  it  were  with  water,  but 
the  colour  of  it  was  like  fire  :  and  I  took  it  and  drank  ; 
and  when  I  had  drunk  of  it,  my  heart  uttered  under- 
standing, and  wisdom  grew  in  my  breast.' 

"  But  whatever  we  may  think  of  the  foregoing,  there 
is  surely  little  that  is  enigmatical  about  the  follow- 
ing :  — 

'  On  the  world's  coquetry,  fools,  lavish  not  your  coin, 
When  all  her  ways  and  windings  know  ye,  line  by 
line  ; 
Give  not  unto  the  wind  this  precious  life,  your  own, 
But  hasten,  seek  the  Friend,  and  quickly  quaff  the 
Wine.'     (108) 


Introduction. 


cix 


"The  prevailing   thought,  however,  of  those   which   The  doc 
we  would  consider  as  the  earlier  quatrains  is  the  brevity  trine  of 
of  life,  and  the  Horatian  maxim  Carpe  diem.     It  is  on   "Carpe 
these,  as  indeed  we  might  expect  in  a  youthful  poet,  diem" 
that  'Umar  has  chiefly  expended  the  wealth  of  his  fancy.' 
A  few  may  be  adduced  as  fair  samples  of  the  rest  :  — 

*  Wake  1  for  the  morning  breaks,  and  rends  the  robe  of 
night  ; 
Why  sorrowful  ?    Rise  and  quaff  the  draught  of  dawn 
aright  ; 
Drain  thou  the  wine,  sweetheart,  for  many  a  morn 
shall  break, 
And  turn  her  eyes  to  ours,  and  ours  be  lorn  of  light. 

(255) 

'  The  yesterday  that 's  gone  endeavour  to  forget, 
And  mourn  not  for  to-morrow  :  'tis  not  risen  yet  ; 
Root  not  thy  hope  in  aught  of  things  that  come  and 
g°. 
Be  happy  now,  and  fling  not  life  to  the  winds  to  fret. 

(334) 

'  A  wise  man  unto  me  came  in  my  sleep,  and  said  : 
"  From  whose  sleep  ever  bloomed  the  rose  of  gladness 
red? 
Why  wilt  thou   do  a  thing  that's  so  the  twin  of 
death  ? 
Drink,  for  full  soon  thou  'It  sleep  with  dust  above  thy 
head."     (48) 

'  See  how  the  wind  of  dawn  has  rent  the  Rose's  robe, 
How  Bulbul  by  her  beauty  is  filled  with  joy  and  love  ! 
Sit  in  the  Rose's  shade,  for  many  a  bloom  like  this 
Has  out  o'  the  dust  arisen  and  lain  with  dust  above. 

(3/0) 


ex  Introduction. 

'  Since  no  one  can  become  a  surety  for  the  morrow, 
Rejoice   thee   now,  and   clear   thy   heart  of    carking 
sorrow  ; 
Drink  wine  i'  the  light  of  wine,  for  the  moon,  my 
Moon,  shall  look 
For  us  no  more,  how  oft  the  heaven  she  circle  thorow. 

(8) 

'  'Tis  a  sweet  day  ;  the  breeze  is  neither  hot  nor  cold  ; 
Soft  clouds  have  laved  the  dust   from   every  rose's 
fold; 
And  to  the  yellow  rose  hi  speech  like  ours  implores 
The  nightingale,  "  One  draught,  and  lose  thy  hue  of 
gold."     (153) 

'  Be  of  good  cheei",  for  chagrin  will  be  infinite  ; 
Upon  the  sphere  of  heaven  stars  shall   conjoin  and 
smite  ; 
The  potter's  clay  that  from  thy  body  kned  shall  be 
Will  build  the  palace  walls  where  others  see  the  light. 

'  Khayyam,  Time's  very  self  's  ashamed  of  anyone 
Who  in  the  day  of  sorrow  sits  faint-hearted  down  ; 

Wine  do  thou  quaff  in  crystal  to  the  lute's  lament 
Or  e'er  thy  crystal  bowl  be  shattered  on  the  stone. 

(252) 

'  Lay  in  my  palm  thy  wine  :  my  heart 's  on  fire  to-day  : 
And  fleet-foot  as  quicksilver,  this  life  will  not  stay  ; 

Wake  !  for  the  smile  of  Fortune  is  but  as  a  dream, 
Wake  !  for  the  fire  of  Youth  like  water  flows  away. 

(54) 


Introduction.  cxi 

1  What  time  her  robing  purple  on  her  the  violet  throws, 
And  morning  breezes  ruffle  petal-folds  of  rose, 

Wiser  were  he  who  by  his  silver-breasted  love 
Quaffs  of  the  wine  and  shatters  goblet  ere  he  goes.' 

(189) 

"  Occasionally,  as  in  his   Roman  prototype,  we  catch    A  tone  of 
amidst  this  forced  gaiety  a  tone  of  deeper  pathos  :  —       pathos 

*  'Twere  best  we  o'er  the  wine-cup  gave  our  hearts  to 
glee, 
And  take  light  thought  of  aught  that 's  gone  or  come 
to  be; 
And  this  our  soul  that 's  lent  us,  prisoner  as  it  is, 
One  moment  from  the  bonds  of  Intellect  set  free. 

(265) 

'  Ah,  that  the  scroll  of  Youth  so  soon  should  be  uprolled, 
And   Pleasure's  springtide  freshness  wrinkle   so  and 
fold! 
That  bird  of  joy  whereon  is  set  the  name  of  Youth 
Knows  neither  how  it  came  nor  whither  its  course  must 
hold.     (128) 

'  When  never  a  labour  of  ours  has  issue  to  our  heart, 
Wherefore    should   we    take    thought,   whereto    our 
impulse  start  ? 
So  sit  we  down  in  sorrow  and  sigh  in  our  regret, 
"  Too    late,    too    late,   we   came,  too  soon  must    we 
depart."     (41) 

'  In  this  wild  whirl  of  time  that  breeds  the  base  alone, 
Uncounted  griefs  and  pangs  bear  I  till  life  be  done  ; 

My  heart  a  rosebud  shut  i'  the  rosière  of  the  world, 
A  blood-red  tulip  flower  in  time's  plantation  grown.' 

(201) 


CX11 


Introduction. 


Sings  only  "  His  longing  for  the  sympathy  of  a  kindred  spirit  — 

for  friends  a  tnahram  i  râz,  a  confidant  of  soul-secrets—  which  is 
characteristic  of  all  true  poets,  the  nee  recito  cuiquam 
nisi  amicis  of  Horace  in  a  deeper  sense,  finds  expres- 
sion again  in  the  following  :  — 

1  Falcon-like  in  the  world  of  Mystery  have  I  flown, 
In  hope  to  leave  this  low  and  reach  a  loftier  zone  ; 

But  for  I  find  not  here  a  soul  for  confidence, 
I  from  that  door  whereby  I  came  again  am  gone.'    (225) 

"  In  spite  of  its  distinctly  Sûfî  flavour,  this  quatrain 
can  surely  be  read  in  a  merely  human  sense.  He  has 
felt  for  but  not  yet  found  the  eternal  Friend,  and  in 
his  loneliness  he  yearns  for  a  brother  man  with  whom 
to  share  his  perplexities. 
The  bitter-  "  As  with  Shakespeare  in  his  middle  period  —  that  of 
ness  of  life  Timon  and  of  Troilus  —  there  comes  a  time  in  'Umar's 
history  when  the  beauty  of  life  was  as  apples  of  Sodom, 
the  bitterness  of  self-reproach  a  very  Marah  to  his  soul  ; 
a  time  when  he  could  not  sing  as  in  the  thoughtless 
days, 

'  Plant  not  within  thy  soul  the  Shoot  of  Sorrow's  tree, 
The  manuscript  of  joy  read  unremittingly,' 

for  the  newly-awakened  conscience  will  not  be  lulled, 
and  gives  him  no  rest.  '  When  the  thought  of  my 
faults  presents  itself  before  me,'  he  says,  '  my  face 
flows  down  with  tears  that  are  born  of  my  heart  of 
fire.' 

'  At  this  wild  whirl  of  Heaven  I  sorrow  evermore, 
And  with  my  own  base  nature  ever  am  at  war; 

Science  avails  me  not  to  rise  above  the  world, 
Nor  Reason  lets  me  rest  where  no  earth-noises  roar.' 

(273) 


Introdîtction.  cxiii 

"To  the  reproaches  of  those  who  do  not  understand  No  moral 
him,  and  accuse  him  of  moral  cowardice,  he  replies,  —  cowardice 
and  the  humility  of  his  answer  is  reflected  in  his  style  :  — 

'  Deem  not  it  is  the  world  whereat  I  am  dismayed, 
Or  death   and   soul's  departure    frighten    with    their 
shade  : 
For  that  it  is  a  fact,  of  death  have  I  no  fear  ; 
'T  is  that  I  live  not  well,  whereof  I  am  afraid.'     (276) 

"  In  the  turmoil  of  self-accusation  and  self-excuse, 
he  seeks  for  comfort  in  the  doctrine  of  determinism 
which  he  had  imbibed  from  childhood,  and  gives  it  a 
characteristic  turn:  — 

'  That  day  the  Steed  of  Heaven  was  saddled  for  the  race, 
Parwîn  and  Mushtarî  sprang  forth  in  all  their  grace, 

In  the  Dîvân  of  Fate  was  my  lot  cast  also  : 
How  then  should  sin  be  mine,  with  Destiny  in  the 
chase?'     (no) 

"  In  his  perplexity,  he  is  almost  ready  to  reproach 
the  First  Cause:  — 

'  Thou  before  Whom  the  maze  of  sin  is  clear  to  see, 
To  him  hath  ears  to  hear  declare  this  mystery  : 

Foreknowledge  absolute  of  Sin's  cause  to  conceive 
In  a  wise  man's  eyes  the  extreme  of  ignorance  would 
be.'     (116) 


The 


"  It  seems  to  him  that  if  the  nature  of  sin,  its  causal 
power,  had  been  present  to  the  Infinite  Consciousness,  philosophy 
it  would  never  in   the  scheme  of  creation  have  been  of  the 
suffered  to  be  —  an  anticipation,  we  might  almost  say,  Uncon- 
of   that  'philosophy  of   the   Unconscious'  which   has  scious  " 
proceeded  from  the  school  of  Schopenhauer. 
8 


cxiv  Introduction. 

"  Wearied  with  beating  his  wings  against  the  bars 
of  this  insoluble  problem,  he  falls  back  upon  a  pathetic 
remonstrance  and  lament  :  — 

'  Of  clay  and  water  hast  thou  kneaded  me  :  what  can  I  ? 
Hast  woven  me  of  silk  and  wool  to  be  :  what  can  I  ? 

And  every  deed  I  give  to  life,  be  it  good  or  ill, 
Was  written  on  my  soul  by  Thy  decree  :  what  can  I  ?  ' 

(268) 

"  Al-Khayyâm's  final  appeal  for  remission,  if  we  may 
so  regard  it,  is  not  without  an  added  interest  for  us  as 
having  been  the  subject  of  one  of  the  most  daring  in- 
versions in  literature.  The  following  is  a  bald  repro- 
duction of  'Umar's  words  as  they  stand  in  the  Teheran 
text  :  — 

Rubâ'iy  '  O  Knower  of  the  secrets  of  the  heart  of  every  man, 

LXXXI.  Who  in  the  hour  of  weakness  bear'st  the  part  of  every 

man, 
Accept,  O  Lord,  my  penitence,  and  me  forgiveness 
give, 
Thou    who  Forgiver  and  Excuser  art  of  every  man.' 

(236) 


"This  quatrain,  as  Mrs.  Cadell  was  the  first  to  point 
out,  is  the  sole  known  warrant  for  that  startling  pas- 
sage in  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  poem,  which  has  so  largely 
affected  our  conception  of  'Umar:  — 

'  Oh  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make 
And  e'en  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake  : 

For  all  the  Sin  wherewith  the  Face  of  Man 
Is  blacken'd  —  Man's  forgiveness  give  —  and  take  !  ' 


Introduction.  cxv 

"'  Khayyam  was  bold  enough  at  times,' remarks  the 
critic,  'but  we  do  not  think  he  reached  the  point  of 
offering  God  forgiveness  for  man's  sins.' 

"The  allusions  in  the  second  and  third  lines  do 
not  seem  to  be  traceable  in  any  extant  text  of  the 
Rubâ'iyât. 

"  Let  us  now  examine  a  few  rubfciyât  of  the  strictly  Mystical 
mystical  class,  that  which  we  would  consider  character-  quatrains 
istic  of  his  later  and  graver  years.  But  between  these 
and  the  rest  there  is  no  hard  and  fast  line  to  be  drawn  ; 
there  is  no  sudden  conversion,  but  a  gradually  growing 
conviction  of  eternal  realities,  not  objectively  merely, 
but  as  existent  in  the  Self,  the  individual  consciousness. 
This  reunion  of  finite  with  infinite,  the  Maksad-i-Aqsâ, 
or  'Uttermost  Aim'  of  Sufic  devotion,  is  beautifully 
figured  by  Jalâl  in  one  of  his  g/iazals,  as  translated  most 
worthily  by  Mr.  Gibbs  :  — 

'  If  to  travel  thou  canst  not  avail,  then  journey  to  thine  A  ghazal 
own  heart,  of  Jalâl 

And  e'en  as  the  ruby  mine,  be  fired  by  the  ray  serene. 

'O  master,  journey  thou  forth,  away  from  thyself  to 
Thyself; 
For  the  ore  of  the  mine  turns  gold  by  a  journey  like 
this,  I  ween. 

'  From  sourness  and   bitterness  here,  to  the  region  of 
sweetness  fare  ; 
For  that  every  moon  from  the  light  of  the  sun  is  with 
grace  beseem' 

"  In  his  own  quaint  manner  Al-Khayyâm  gives  the 
thought  expression  :  — 


CXV1 


Introduction. 


'  While  on  the  path  of  Hope  let  no  heart  pass  unknown, 

While  on  the  path  of  Presence  *  make  a  Friend  your 

own  ; 

A  hundred  clay  and  water  Ka'abas  are  not  worth 

One  Heart  :  whereafter  seek,  and  Ka'abas  leave  alone.' 

(15) 

Omar's  "As  he  rises  in  the  scale  of  insight,  his  sympathies 

broad  widen,  and  he  can  perceive  that  to  the  true  believer 

liberality  no  faith  is  alien,  and  that  variations  and  discrepancies 
of  worship,  be  it  sincere,  are  less  of  kind  than  of  de- 
gree ;  the  fairest  feature  of  the  mystic  school  in  every 
age.  Hinduism,  which  he  typifies  by  the  name  of 
pagoda  {butkada,  or  idol  house),  and  which  was  in  his 
time  the  object  of  unceasing  crusades  on  the  part  of 
Islam,  is  more  than  once  brought  by  him  into  honorable 
prominence,  and  is  made,  equally  with  Zoroastrianism 
and  with  Christianity,  the  vehicle  of  his  wider  hope  :  — 

'  Pagoda,  Ka'aba,  both  are  temples  of  true  service, 
The  bell-peal  is  the  hymning  music  of  true  service  ; 

The  Mihrab  and  the  Church,  the  Rosary  and  Cross, 
In  truth  are  one  and  all  but  tokens  of  true  service.' 

(3°) 

"  Elsewhere,  by  a  play  upon  words  not  unknown  to 
the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  he  opposes  to  the  everlasting 
light  {nur)  of  Islam  the  eternal  fire  [nâr)  of  Mazdeism, 
—  not,  surely,  as  Nicolas  would  have  us  suppose,  '  the 


*  Niyâz  (Hope  or  Aspiration)  and  Hazûr  (Presence,  the 
Beatific  Vision)  are,  respectively,  the  second  and  penultimate 
stages  of  the  Tar'iq  or  way  of  Perfection,  of  which  the  fourth 
and  last  is  Haqîqat  (Truth-God)  —  absolute  absorption  into  the 
Divine  Essence,  or  Nirvana. 


Introduction.  cxvii 

fire  of  Hell,'  unless,  indeed,  there  be  a  lurking  double 
entendre,  mischievously  contrived  for  those  profane 
ones  who  could  or  would  not  distinguish  the  one  from 
the  other,  —  a  view  quite  in  keeping  of  what  we  knew 
of  'Umar's  character:  — 

'Though  our  lot  be  not  the  roses,  yet  we  have  the  thorn. 

And  there  's  a  Fire,  although  for  us  no  Light  be  born  ; 

And  there  's  the  belfry-chime  and  Church  and  Brama- 

thread, 

Although  no  Khankah*  shelter  or  Darvîsh  dress  be 

worn.'     (253) 

"  This  feeling  is  expressed  as  boldly  in  the  ruââ'iy, 
where  he  says  that  the  worshipper,  whether  he  be  Jew 
or  Muslim,  if  only  his  name  is  written  in  God's  great 
book  of  Love  (ô  yàp  Qebs  àydin]  ftrri),  is  freed  alike  from  Spiritual 
the  gross  pains  and  the  grosser  pleasures  of  the  popular  liberty 
hell  and  paradise  ;  a  sentiment  strangely  in  opposition 
to  the  recorded  injunction  of  Muhammad,  '  Spare  not 
the  Synagogue  of  Satan.'  That  spiritual  Liberty,  whose 
correlative  in  the  moral  sphere  is  the  avrapxeia  [Self- 
sufficiency,  independence]  of  Epictetus  and  Antonine, 
is  the  object  of  his  earnest  longing.  If  haply  he  may 
find  it  ? 

1  The  heart  that  Isolation's  fulness  doth  not  own 
Is  helpless,  daily  mate  of  her  own  penitent  moan  : 

How  shall  true  joy  be  hers,  except  the  soul  is  free? 
All  else  whate'er  it  be,  is  root  of  grief  alone.'      (97) 

"Like  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  he  can  picture  to  himself 
the  blissful  state  of  the  man  who  is  '  lord  of  himself 
though  not  of  lands,  and  having  nothing,  yet  hath  all.' 

*  Khankah.  a  Muhammadan  monastery. 


cxviii  Introduction. 

His  out-  Indeed,  his  conception  has  as  much  a  Christian  as  a 

bursts  of         Stoic  flavour,  and  recalls  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  as 
devotion  wel]  as  the  Meditations. 

'  Happy  the  heart  of  him  who  passes  life  unknown, 
Who   never   wore  cashmere    or    lawn    or  lamb's-wool 
gown  : 
Who  like   the  Simurgh  wings   his  flight  in  highest 
heaven, 
Who  makes  not    like  the  owl  'mid  ruined  worlds  his 
moan.     (140) 

'  In  this  world  whoso  hath  but  half  a  loaf  of  bread, 
And  in  his  breast  a  refuge  where  to  lay  his  head, 

Who  of  no  man  is  slave,  who  of  no  man  is  lord  — 
Tell  such  to  live  in  joy  :  his  world  is  sweet  indeed.' 

(146) 

"  All  these  currents  of  thought  meet  and  mingle  in 
one  harmonious  outburst  of  devotion,  which  is  vigor- 
ously expressed  in  'Umar's  truest  style. 

'  In    Faith  are  two  and  seventy  Worships,  great  and 
small, 
But  the  worship  of  Thy  Love  will  I  choose  before  them 
all; 
What's  Unbelief,  Belief,  Obedience,  or  Sin? 
Before  thee,  the  one  Aim,  let  all  pretences  fall.'    (24S) 


Evil  only  "  Here,  in  common  with  the  mystics  of  every  school, 

relative  he  seeks  to  solve  the  riddle  of  evil  by  questioning  its 

existence  in  fact,  or  by  assuming  it  to  be  merely  rela- 
tive, which,  rightly  seen,  is  swallowed  up  in  the  fullness 
of  the  infinite   Light.     As  to  this  conclusion  he  must 


Introduction.  cxix 

have  been  helped  not  a  little  by  the  deterministic  theol- 
ogy which  he  had  learned  from  the  Imam  Muwaffiq, 
and  to  which  he  gives,  as  to  every  phase  of  his  thought, 
a  characteristic  expression  :  — 

'  Limned  on  Creation's  Tablet  each  and  all  exists, 
Yet  evermore  from  Good  or  111  the  Pencil  rests. 

All  that  is  destined  must  in  Justice  come  to  be, 
And  vain  the  wish  that  yearns,  the  sorrow  that  resists.' 

(30 

"  From  the  belief  that  good  and  evil,  in  our  sense  of  A  dan- 
the  words,  are  banished  from  the  Councils  of  Eternity,  gerous 
to  a  denial   to  moral  distinctions  of  anything   but  a  doctrine 
relative  existence,  was  but  a  step.     This  most  danger- 
ous doctrine,  so  capable  of  the  corruptio  optimi pessima, 
is  touched  upon  by  J  ami,  the  last  of   the  great  Sûfî 
poets,  in  the  proem  to  his  exquisite  allegory,  Salâmân 
and  Absâl,  as  a  prayer   that   the   beatific  vision  may 
annihilate  his  self-identity  and»  release   him  from  the 
distinction  between  good  and  evil,  may  make  him,  as 
Mr.  Fitzgerald  well  expresses  it  in  his  fine  paraphrase  : 

'  Self-lost,  and  conscience-quit  of  Good  and  Evil.' 

"  Sometimes  'Umar's  rapture  of  contemplation  car- 
ries him  very  high,  and  in  his  tone,  though  not  his  style, 
reminds  us  now  of  Shelley  and  now  of  Emerson.  Take, 
for  example,  the  following  :  — 

'  Thou,  Whom  the  whole  world  seeks  in  frenzy  and  fire 
of  mind, 
Barren  alike  before  Thee  are  rich  and  poor  mankind  ; 
Thou  'rt  mingled  in  all  speech,  and  every  ear  is  deaf, 
Thou  'rt  present  to  all  men,  and  every  eye  is  blind. 

(204) 


cxx  Introduction. 

'  Sometime  to  mortal  man    Thou  show'st    Thy  hidden 
Face, 
Sometime  art  manifest  in  Kosmic  form  and  trace  ; 
And  this  magnificence  show'st  Thou  to  Thine  own 
Self, 
For  thou  'rt  the  Eyes  that  see,  the  Vision  they  embrace. 

(443) 


The  Drop  to  the  Sea's  lamenting,  "  Separate  are  we." 
"Rather  'tis  Thou  and  I  are  all  things,"  laughs  the 
Sea; 
"  Truly  there  is  none  other  :  we  are  God  alone, 
'T  is  but  a  tittle's  varying  sunders  thee  and  Me."  '   (365) 


His  humor  "We  should   be  doing  injustice  to   'Umar's  genius 

were  we  to  omit  from  our  view  that  aspect  of  it  which 
is  so  characteristic  of  the  man,  and  singles  him  out 
from  all  his  fellows;  that  grotesque  humour,  so  rare  in 
Eastern  literature,  which  is  the  point  he  possesses  in 
common  with  Heine,  and  which  we  may  almost  say  is 
the  antiseptic  salt  that  has  preserved  his  thought  fresh 
for  us  after  the  lapse  of  centuries.  This  spirit  of  self- 
banter,  which  plays  lightly  around  so  many  of  his  utter- 
ances, is  not  quite  absent  from  even  such  a  topic  as  the 
assurance  of  his  own  immortality,  to  which  it  gives 
the  quaintest  of  turns.  Yet  here  he  is  evidently  in 
earnest  :  — 

'  The  moment  when  I  shall  from  death  escape  and  flee, 
And  shed  like  leaf  from  bough  my  body  from  life's 
tree, 
With  what  glad  heart  /  7/  make  the  universe  a  sieve 
Or  e'er  an  earthly  riddle  sift  the  dust  of  me  !  '     (266) 


Introduction.  cxxi 

"The  same  spirit  is  noticeable  in  one  of  his  potatory  Enigmatical 
quatrains  of  which  it  were  difficult  to  say  whether  he  is   expressions 
merely  jesting  or  is  propounding  a  Sûric  sentiment  under 
a  bizarre  form.     Like  some  passages  already  quoted,  it 
is  of  so  enigmatical  a  character  as  to  fairly  baffle  our 
scrutiny  :  — 

'When  azure  Dawn  begins  to  lift  her  light  divine, 
Look  in  thine  hand  there  be  the  wine-bowl  flashing  fine  : 

They  say  that  Truth  is  ever  bitter  in  the  mouth 
And  by  that  argument  the  Truth  must  needs  be  Wine.' 

(185) 

"  In  the  same  category  we  might  include  a  quatrain 
in  which  Khayyam,  after  his  own  peculiar  fashion, 
reproaches  Fortune's  wheel  :  — 

'  Ah,  Wheel  of  Heaven  !  no  guest  but  fears  thy  perfidy.* 
Naked  thou  keep'st  me  stript  as  fish  that's  in  the  sea; 
While  all  creation  's  clad  by  spinning-wheels  of  earth, 
There  's  ne'er  a  spinning-wheel  but  far  surpasseth 
thee!'     (251) 

"We  have  seen  how  'Umar  speaks  of  Christianity:   Omar  and 
let  us  see  how  a  Muhammadan  may  speak  of  its  Founder.   Muhammad 
Even  though  it  be  not  genuine,  the  rubâ'iy  was  assuredly 
written  by  a  Muslim.     The  mode  adopted  is   that   of 
self-remonstrance  :  — 

'  Fool,  for  thy  fear  of  death  and  boding  of  surcease, 
When  from  extinction  springs  a  life  of  endiess  bliss; 

Soon  as  in  'Isâ's  breath  I  grow  a  living  soul 
Eternal  death  shall  leave  my  little  life  in  peace.'     (39) 

*  "  Thou  knovvest  neither  bread  nor  salt," — a  periphrasis 

for  the  basest  ingratitude  in  host  or  guest. 


cxxn 


Introduction. 


The 
Persian 
idea  of 
Jesus 


"  The  quickening  breath  of  Jesus  is  frequently  made 
a  poetic  figure  by  the  Persians,  and  sometimes,  as  in 
the  Masîbat-nâmah  of  'Attâr,  the  effect  of  its  miracu- 
lous exertion  is  described  ;  but  nowhere,  so  far  as  we  are 
aware,  is  the  spiritual  significance  so  beautifully  brought 
out  as  in  the  above.  We  must,  however,  bear  in  mind 
that,  by  the  Persian,  Jesus  was  regarded  less  as  the 
penultimate  prophet  of  Islam  than  as  the  supreme 
Sûfî,  the  master-mystic  who  has  attained  absolute  iden- 
tity with  Deity,  and  who  was,  to  all  who  followed  in 
the  same  path  of  contemplation  and  purity,  at  once  a 
Teacher  and  a  Type. 

"There  is  yet  one  aspect  more  of  'Umar's  mind  in 
which  we  have  not  contemplated  him,  and  this  is  a 
very  amiable  one.  With  it  let  us  take  our  leave  of  him, 
laying  at  his  feet  our  feeble  tribute  of  admiration  and 
sympathy,  in  the  hope  that  the  circle  of  his  true  friends 
and  faithful  interpreters  may  widen,  and  that,  in  his 
own  words,  he  may  bind  many  a  heart  to  him  hereafter 
in  the  cords  of  love  :  — 


4  Tho'  the  world's  face  thou  make  all  populous  to  be, 
'T  is  far  less  than  to  bring  one  sorrowing  heart  in  glee  ; 
If  thou  by  graciousness  but  make  one  freeman  bond, 
'T  is  better  than  to  set  a  thousand  bondmen  free.'  "  (444) 


VII. 


FitzGer- 
ald's  ingen- 
ious mosaic 


These  protests  raised  by  Persian  scholars 
against  the  representation  of  Omar  which  is  based 
on  FitzGerald's  poem,  certainly  seem  to  have 
a  basis  of  justification.  His  Rubâ'iy-sequence, 
which   has   been  well   called  "  the   highest    expo- 


Introduction.  cxxiii 

nent  of  Agnosticism,"  is  not  so  much  a  graft- 
ing of  the  effusions  of  Anakreon  upon  Lucretius, 
as  it  is  a  reincarnation.  Koheleth  is  born  again  in 
Omar,  and,  after  a  half  millennium,  in  Edward 
FitzGerald.  A  Liszt  takes  a  number  of  isolated 
Hungarian  nep  or  popular  songs  born  among  the 
people,  and  weaves  them  into  a  gorgeous  rhap- 
sody. The  isolated  becomes  the  united.  Modern 
genius  furnishes  the  simple  melody  with  compli- 
cated harmony. 

But  on  the  other  hand  it  is  also  a  question 
whether,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  genius  of  the 
modern,  Omar  would  ever  have  won  any  very 
exalted  place  in  the  estimation  of  Europe.  An 
accomplished  Arabic  scholar,  born  in  the  East, 
writes  :  — 

"  Persian  is  rather  off  my  beat  ;  and,  in  my  judgment,   Dr.  Talcott 
Omar  owes  more  to   FitzGerald  than  he  does  to  him-  "Williams's 
self,  as  far  as  English  readers  are  concerned.     I  do  not  letter 
mean  by  this  that   Omar's    thought    differs  with    the 
utterances  of  FitzGerald's  translation,   but  the  utter- 
ance owes  so   much  in  our  language  to  the  form  in 
which  FitzGerald  has  cast  it,  that  I  have  always  felt,  in 
the  few  quatrains  which  I  have  laboriously  translated, 
that  pretty  much  everything  had  evaporated  when  the 
thought  was  taken  out  of  FitzGerald's  setting.     The 
truth  is,  in  literature,  form  is  everything.     Everybody 
has  the  same  ideas,  I  fancy,  and  it  is  only  the  capacity 
for  expression  which  makes  literature.  .  .  . 

"  I  presume  you  know  that  Omar  by  no  means  casts 
the  shade  over  his  native  fields  which  he  does  over 
ours.  Sadi  and  Ilafiz,  especially  the  latter,  rank  far 
higher.     The  few  Persians  whom  I  have  known  —  and  I 


cxxiv  Introduction. 

do  not  think  I  have  talked  with  over  three  or  four  —  all 
knew  of  Omar  and  had  read  him,  but  they  had  no 
Foe  enthusiasm  over  him.     In  fact,  the  vogue  which  Omar 

has  with  us  is  not  unlike  that  which  Poe  has  in  France. 
As  of  course  you  know,  our  young  French  friends 
think  Poe  is  immeasurably  our  greatest  poet,  and  when 
they  rhyme  about  him  with  an  accent  over  the  e,  pro- 
duce very  extraordinary  results  ;  and  the  Persians  I 
have  known,  when  I  opened  on  Omar  acted  very  much 
as  I  did  when  a  young  Frenchman  congratulated  me 
on  belonging  to  the  nation  which  had  produced  the 
amazing  genius  of  Poe." 

This  correspondent  adds  :  — 

"  I  really  cannot  exaggerate  the  difference  between 
native  and  European  knowledge  of  an  Oriental  lan- 
guage. We  generally  know  their  formal  grammar, 
history  and  derivatives  of  their  tongues  especially,  a 
hundredfold  better  than  they  do  ;  but  when  it  comes 
to  the  meaning  of  a  particular  passage,  we  are  simply 
nowhere.  It  is  a  simple  and  soul-humbling  truth  that 
the  first  translation  or  two  of  almost  any  Oriental 
work  is  full  of  the  wildest  shot." 

The  actual         The  actual  meaning  of   Omar's  verses  is  now 
Omar  definitely  established.     FitzGerald's  free  moderni- 

zation may  be  corrected  by  comparison  with  any 
one  of  a  dozen  versions  in  prose  and  in  rhyme,  in 
English,  in  French,  and  in  German.  They  are 
here  presented  convenient  of  access.  There  is  no 
excuse  for  misunderstanding  the  old  Persian.  But 
however  interesting  we  may  find  Omar  himself 
in  the  phases  neglected  by  FitzGerald,  however 
he   may  rise   morally  above   the   pessimistic   and 


Introduction.  cxxv 

even  nihilistic  impression  which  FitzGerald's  para- 
phrase may  leave  upon  many  readers,  it  is  after  all 
to  FitzGerald's  poem  that  we  shall  ever  look. 
Almost  the  last  word  of  praise  of  that  work  has 
been  said  by  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  in  a  note 
to  his  essay  on  Matthew  Arnold's  New  Poems* 
Mr.  Swinburne  says:  — 

"  Far  better  than  in  the  long  literal  version  of  Omar  Swin- 

Khàyyàm,  which  is  all  that    the  French  language  can  burne's 

show,  may  the  soul  and  spirit  of  his  thought  be  tasted  tribute 

in  that  most  exquisite  English  translation,  sovereignly  to  Fitz- 

faultless  in  form  and  colour  of   verse,  which  gives  to  trerald 
those  ignorant  of  the  East  a  relish  of  the  treasure  and 
a  delight  in  the  beauty  of  its  wisdom." 

And  in  his  Essay  on  Social  Verse  f  he  calls 
FitzGerald  "  the  man  whose  sly  audacity  of  diffi- 
dent and  daring  genius  has  given  Omar  Khayyam 
a  place  for  ever  among  the  greatest  of  English 
poets." 

He  goes  on  :  — 

"  That   the   very   best   of   his   exquisite   poetry,    the  Elegance, 
strongest  and  serenest  wisdom,    the  sanest   and   most  distinction, 
serious  irony,  the  most  piercing   and  the  profoundest  and  grace 
radiance  of  his  gentle  and  sublime  philosophy,  belong 
as  much  or  more  to  Suffolk,  than  to   Shiraz,  has  been, 

*  Essays  and  Studies,  1875.  McCarthy  says  :  "To  Mr. 
Swinburne  Omar  owes  the  most  eloquent  tribute  in  the  Eng- 
lish language,  the  words  which  are  to  be  found  in  a  note  to  the 
essay  on  Blake."  Several  careful  searches  through  the  essay 
on  Blake  text  and  notes  failed  to  reveal  this  tribute. 

t  Studies  in  Prose  and  Poetry,  1S94. 


CXXV1 


Introduction. 


if  I  mistake  not,  an  open  secret  for  many  years  —  and 
as  Dogberry  says,  'It  will  go  near  to  be  thought  so 
shortly.'  Every  quatrain,  though  it  is  something  so 
much  more  than  graceful  or  distinguished  or  elegant, 
is  also,  one  may  say,  the  sublimation  of  elegance,  the 
apotheosis  of  distinction,  the  transfiguration  of  grace  : 
perfection  of  style  can  go  no  further  and  rise  no  higher, 
as  thought  can  pierce  no  deeper  and  truth  can  speak 
no  plainer  than  in  the  crowning  stanza,  which  of  course 
would  have  found  itself  somewhat  out  of  place  beside 
even  the  grandest  and  the  loftiest  poem  (Mrs.  Barbauld's 
immortal  lines  on  life,  old  age,  and  death)  admitted  or 
admissible  into  such  a  volume  as  this." 


Fitz- 
Gerald's 
crowning 
stanza 


By  the  "crowning  stanza"  Mr.  Swinburne  means 
the  famous  one  which  has  so  puzzled  the  Persian 
students  of  Omar  :  — 

Oh  Thou  who  man  of  baser  earth  didst  make, 
And  who  with  Eden  didst  devise  the  Snake, 
For  all  the  sin  where  with  the  face  of  man 
Is  Blackened,  man's  forgiveness  give  —  and  take! 


Omar  as 
presented 
by  his 
translators 


But  Omar,  whether  presented  in  the  glowing, 
vital,  consistent  splendor  of  FitzGerald's  elegy,  or 
in  the  desultory,  fragmentary,  alphabetical  con- 
tradictoriness  of  Nicolas,  McCarthy,  and  Whin- 
field,  or  in  the  analytical  presentation,  independ- 
ently made,  by  Professor  Cowell  and  Mrs.  Cadell 
and  C.  J.  Pickering  and  H.  G.  Keene,  or  in  the 
sympathetic  grace  of  our  American  translator, 
John  Leslie  Garner,  when  at  his  best,  —  old 
Omar  stands  clearly  outlined  before  our  vision, 
a  figure  who  appeals  to  our  love  and  admiration. 


m  science 
and  poetry 


In  ti  in/ u  et  ion .  cxxv  i  i 

We  forget  the  distance  in  time  and  space  which 
separates  him  from  us.  We  instinctively  feel  that 
if  he  should  reappear  in  our  clay,  we  should  claim 
him  as  a  friend  ;  that,  without  shock  of  sudden 
change,  he  would  take  his  place  in  the  van  of  our 
science,  as  he  was  in  the  van  of  his  own;  that  he  Omar  as 
would  be  a  leader  of  modern  thought,  as  he  was  a  leader 
ahead  of  the  thought  of  his  contemporaries  ;  that 
he  would  as  well  now,  in  a  day  when,  however 
falsely,  it  is  often  claimed  that  poetry  is  decadent, 
voice  the  doubts  and  aspirations  of  humanity  in 
melodious  verse,  just  as  he  in  his  own  day,  for  an 
audience  select  and  few,  for  the  world-brotherhood 
of  high  culture,  voiced  all  the  great  problems  that 
have  puzzled  the  keenest  minds  since  the  begin- 
ning of  civilization. 

It  has  been  thought  by  some  that   the  interest  The 
in  Omar  Khayyam,  which  is  now  so  widespread,  °mar  cult 
is  only  ephemeral  ;  the  contrary  is  true,  for  there  no  a 
is  a  constantly  increasing  number   of  thinkers  to 
whom    Omar's   utterances   appeal    as  the   clearest 
expression   of    their    own    half-melancholy,    half- 
jocular,    but   wholly  serene  and   trustful  views  of 
life  and  of  the  future. 

It  was  part  of  the  original  design  of  this  edition   The  com- 

of  Omar  Khayyam  to  include  a  large  number  of  parative 

comparative    excerpts   from    earlier   and  later   au-  literature 

thors,  giving  as    it  were  a   synoptic  digest  of  the 

.      ,.      ö  r  .  :  T     .  °  .  .        cism 

poetic   literature  of  agnosticism.     It  is  surprising 

to  see  how  far  it  extends  back  into  the  dim  ages 

of  antiquity,  running  like  a  sombre   thread  along 

with  the  lofty  dignity  of  Job.  forming    a  pathetic 


cxxviii  Introduction. 

minor  amid  the  grand  major  chords  of  the  Psalms, 
cropping  out    in  the  books   of   the  Apocrypha,  * 

*  An  interesting  example  of  Apocryphal  anticipation  of 
Omar  is  found  in  chapter  ii.  of  the  "  Wisdom  of  Solomon  "  : 

"  i  For  the  ungodly  said,  reasoning  with  themselves,  but  not 
aright,  Our  life  is  short  and  tedious,  and  in  the  death  of  a 
man  there  is  no  remedy  :  neither  was  there  any  man  known 
to  have  returned  from  the  grave. 

"  2  For  we  are  born  at  all  adventure  :  and  we  shall  be  here- 
after as  though  we  had  never  been  :  for  the  breath  in  our 
nostrils  is  as  smoke,  and  a  little  spark  in  the  moving  of  our 
heart  : 

"  3  Which  being  extinguished,  our  body  shall  be  turned  into 
ashes,  and  our  spirit  shall  vanish  as  the  soft  air, 

"4  And  our  name  shall  be  forgotten  in  time,  and  no  man 
shall  have  our  works  in  remembrance,  and  our  life  shall  pass 
away  as  the  trace  of  a  cloud,  and  shall  be  dispersed  as  a  mist, 
that  is  driven  away  with  beams  of  the  sun,  and  overcome  with 
the  heat  thereof. 

"  5  For  our  time  is  a  very  shadow  that  passeth  away;  and 
after  our  end  there  is  no  returning  :  for  it  is  fast  sealed,  so 
that  no  man  cometh  again. 

"  6  Come  on  therefore,  let  us  enjoy  the  good  things  that  are 
present  :  and  let  us  speedly  use  the  creature  like  as  in  youth. 

"  7  Let  us  fill  ourselves  with  costly  wine  and  ointments  :  and 
let  no  flower  of  the  spring  pass  by  us  : 

"  S  Let  us  crown  ourselves  with  rosebuds  before  they  be 
withered." 

But  the  author  of  the  "  Wisdom  of  Solomon  "  is  not  satis- 
fied with  this  conclusion.  He  brings  out  the  contrast:  "For 
God  created  man  to  be  immortal,  and  made  him  to  be  an 
image  of  his  own  eternity;"  and  he  adds,  "the  souls  of  the 
righteous  are  in  the  hand  of  God  and  there  shall  no  torment 
touch  them." 

For  profoundness  of  philosophy  there  is  nothing  in  Omar 
that  comes  up  to  the  superb  faith  of  St.  Paul,  who  cries,  "  All 


Introduction.  cxxix 

represented    in   the    magnificent    choruses   of    the  Gratitude 
Hellenic  drama  as  well  as  in  the  gay  and  appar-  to  whom 
ently   careless    drinking-songs   of    Anakreon   and  gratl  u   e 
Horace.     Persian    poetry    would   have    furnished 
a  whole   storehouse  of   analogous    quotations  ;    it 
echoes   and  re-echoes  in  the  Orphic  utterances  of 
Goethe*  and  in  the    sonnets  of   our   own  Shake- 
speare. 

things  work  together  for  good  !  "  On  the  other  hand,  there  is 
nothing  in  Omar,  whom  the  Hungarian  translator  calls  the 
Cynic,  more  hopeless  than  these  lines  from  Job  (x.  20-22)  : 

"  Let  me  alone  that  I  may  take  comfort  a  little, 

Before  I  go  whence  I  shall  not  return, 
Even  to  the  land  of  darkness  and  of  the  shadow  of  death, 

A  land  of  thick  darkness,  as  darkness  itself 
A  land  of  the  shadow  of  death,  without  any  order, 

And  where  the  light  is  as  darkness." 

In  the  same  spirit,  perhaps,  Browning  sings  :  — 

"  Swift  as  a  weaver's  shuttle  fleet  our  years  ; 
Man  goeth  to  the  grave,  and  where  is  he  ?  " 

*  The  affinity  between  Omar  and  Goethe  seems  to  have 
impressed  the  French.  The  late  Ernest  Kenan  in  his  Annual 
Report  to  the  Société  Asiatique  in  July,  1S68,  speaking  of 
Nicolas's  translation  of  "  Kheyyâm  "  said  :  — 

"  Mathématicien,  poëte,  mystique  en  apparence,  débauché 
en  réalité,  hypocrite  consommé,  mêlant  le  blasphème  à  l'hymne 
mystique,  le  rire  à  l'incrédulité,  Kheyyâm  est  peut-être  l'homme 
le  plus  curieux  à  étudier  pour  comprendre  ce  qu'a  pu  devenir 
le  libre  génie  de  la  Perse  sous  l'étreinte  du  dogmatisme  musul- 
man. La  traduction  des  quatrains  a  obtenu  un  grand  succès 
en  dehors  du  monde  des  orientalistes.     Des  critiques  exercés 

9 


cxxx 


Introduction. 


The 

abundance 
of  Omar 
Khayyam 
literature 


Occasionally  brief  quotations  from  other  poets 
have  been  introduced  as  illustrative  of  thought  or 
expression,  but  much  material  collected  had  to 
be  omitted,  the  abundance  of  strictly  appropriate 
Omar  Khayyam  literature  precluding  the  further 
increase  of  the  book.  The  principal  design  of 
the  edition  was  to  present  Omar  himself,  and 
assuredly  the  combination  of  all  the  various  trans- 
lations ought  to  strike  an  average  which  in  spite 
of  Cervantes's  dictum*  will  fairly  represent  the 
original  :  a  sort  of  composite  photograph. 

I  cannot  end  this  preface  without  expressing 
my  gratitude  to  those  who  by  their  sympathy  and 


ont  tout  de  suite  senti  sous  cette  enveloppe  singulière  un  frère 
de  Goethe  ou  de  Henri  Heine." 

And  C.  Barbier  de  Meynard,  in  his  "  Poésie  en  Perse,"  p.  40 
(Paris,  1877),  makes  brief  mention  of  Omar  in  almost  the 
same  words  :  — ■ 

"  C'est  en  Perse  seulement  qu'elle  [la  doctrine  de  soufisme] 
pouvait  se  propager  et  s'affirmer  dans  des  œuvres  littéraires 
telles,  par  exemple,  que  les  Quatrains  de  Khayyam.  Que  ce 
livre  soit,  comme  on  l'a  prétendu,  une  protestation  contre  le 
dogmatisme  musulman,  ou  qu'il  soit  le  produit  d'une  imagi- 
nation-maladive, singulier  mélange  de  scepticisme,  d'ironie  et 
de  négation  amère,  il  n'en  est  pas  moins  curieux  de  trouver  en 
Perse,  dès  le  xie  Siècle,  des  précurseurs  de  Goethe  et  de 
Henri  Heine." 

*  "  Le  quitô  mucho  de  su  natural  valor,  y  mismo  harân  todos 
aquellos  que  los  libros  de  verso  quisieren  volver  en  otra 
lengua,  que  por  mucho  cuidado  que  pongan  y  habilidad  que 
muestren,  jamâs  llegarân  al  punto  que  ellos  tienen  en  su 
primer  nacimiento." 

These  are  the  words  of  the  Curate,  but  they  probably  repre- 
sent Cervantes's  own  ideas. 


Introduction.  cxxxi 

encouragement   have   greatly  lightened   what   has  Gratitude 
been  a  long  and  laborious,  though  absorbing  and  to  whom 
fascinating   labor.      And   first,    to   the    publisher,  eratitude 
whose  faith  has   kept  increase  with  the  demands  1S    ue 
upon  his  patience  and  his  generosity,  in  allowing 
the  work   to   exceed  its  at  first  projected   dimen- 
sions,  and  who  has  put  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
its  complete   realization.     And   next   to  Mr.  John 
Leslie  Garner,  of  Milwaukee,  who  with  truly  Omar 
Khayyamesque  modesty  allowed  me  to  make  use 
not  only  of   his  own  translation,  but   also  of   the 
learning    which   distinguishes   him.      My   thanks 
are   also   due    to   the  other  translators  of    Omar, 
most  of  whom,  residing  at   a  distance,  have  been 
out  of  the  reach  of  direct  application,  but  whose 
work  I  have,  with  pride  in  their  accomplishments 
and  gratitude  for  their  admirable  services,  drawn 
upon  for  the   purposes  of   the    comparison.     The 
Boston  Public    Library  and   the    Athenaeum    have 
placed  every  facility  at  the  service  of  this  work. 

Mr.  Charles  Eliot  Norton  has  more  than  once 
allowed  me  to  make  use  of  his  precious  copies  of 
the  original  first  and  second  editions  of  FitzGerald, 
and  the  first  copy  of  the  first  edition  which  I  had 
for  comparison  was  intrusted  to  me  in  a  perfect 
and  magnificently  bound  copy  by  Mr.  Frederick 
W.  French  of  Boston.  Colonel  Higginson  allowed 
me  to  use  his  copy  of  the  third  edition  bearing  the 
variants  of  the  first  and  second  editions,  and  I 
have  thus  been  enabled  to  compare  every  quota- 
tion with  the  original  text. 

I   have    taken  all  pains   possible  to    avoid  inac- 


cxxxii  Introduction. 

curacies,  but  eyes  are  prone  to  oversee,  and  types 
are  subject  to  the  "  total  depravity  of  inanimate 
things,"  so  that  conceit  cannot  blind  me  to  the 
certainty  that,  after  all,  words  will  be  found  mis- 
placed and  punctuation  imperfect.  Notification 
of  errors  found,  and  any  criticism,  however  severe, 
will  be  gratefully  received  by  the  editor, 

NATHAN    HASKELL   DOLE. 

"  Hedgecote,"  Glen   Road, 
Jamaica  Plain  (Boston), 
February,  1896. 


OMAR    KHAYYAM, 

THE   ASTRONOMER-POET   OF    PERSIA. 

(BY    EDWARD    FITZGERALD.) 

With   Variants  of  Edition  I. 


Omar  Khayyam  was  born  at  Naishâpûr  in  Khorasan  !  in 
the  latter  half  of  our  Eleventh,  and  died  within  the  First 
Quarter  of  our  Twelfth,  Century.  The  slender  Story  of  his 
Life  is  curiously  twined  about  that  of  two  other 2  very 
considerable  Figures  in  their  Time  and  Country  :  one  of 
whom  tells  the  Story  of  all  Three.3  This  was  Nizam  ul 
Mulk,  Vizyr  to  Alp  Arslan  the  Son,  and  Malik  Shah  the 
Grandson,  of  Toghrj.il  Beg  the  Tartar,  who  had  wrested 
Persia  from  the  feeble  Successor  of  Mahmud  the  Great,  and 
founded  that  Seljukian  Dynasty  which  finally  roused  Europe 
into  the  Crusades.     This  Nizâm  ul  Mulk,  in  his  Wasiyat*  — 

1  Ed.  I:  Khorassân.  '  Ed.  I:  others. 

3  Ed.  I  :  one  of  them,  Hasan  al  Sabbâh,  whose  very  Name  has 
lengthen'd  down  to  us  as  a  terrible  Synonym  for  Murder:  and  the 
other  (who  also  tells  the  Story  of  all  Three)  Nizâm  al  .Mulk,  Vizyr 
to  Alp  the  Lion  and  Malik  Shah  Son  and  Grandson  of. 

4  Ed.  I  :  YVasyat  ;  in  (  'owell's  article,  Wasiyah. 


cxxxiv  Omar  Khayyam, 

or  Testament — which  he  wrote  and  left  as  a  Memorial  for 
future  Statesmen  —  relates  the  following,  as  quoted  in  the 
Calcutta  Review,  No.  59,  from  Mirkhond's  History  of  the 
Assassins  :  — 

"  '  One  of  the  greatest  of  the  wise  men  of  Khorassan  was 
'  the  Imam  Mowaffak  of  Naishâpûr,1  a  man  highly  honoured 
'  and  reverenced,  —  may  God  rejoice  his  soul  ;  his  illustrious 
'  years  exceeded  eighty-five,  and  it  was  the  universal  belief 
'  that  every  boy  who  read  the  Koran  or  studied  the  traditions 
'  in  his  presence,  would  assuredly  attain  to  honour  and  happi- 
1  ness.  For  this  cause  did  my  father  send  me  from  Tüs  to 
'Naishâpûr1  with  Abd-us-samad,'2  the  doctor  of  law,  that  I 
'  might  employ  myself  in  study  and  learning  under  the  guid- 
'  ance  of  that  illustrious  teacher.  Towards  me  he  ever 
'  turned  an  eye  of  favour  and  kindness,  and  as  his  pupil  I  felt 
'  for  him  extreme  affection  and  devotion,  so  that  I  passed  four 
'  years  in  his  service.  When  I  first  came  there,  I  found  two 
'  other  pupils  of  mine  own  age  newly  arrived,  Hakim  Omar 
'  Khayyam,  and  the  ill-fated  Ben  Sabbâh.  Both  were  en- 
'  dowed  with  sharpness  of  wit  and  the  highest  natural  powers  ; 
'  and  we  three  formed  a  close  friendship  together.  When 
'  the  Imam  rose  from  his  lectures,  they  used  to  join  me, 
'  and  we  repeated  to  each  other  the  lessons  we  had  heard. 
'  Now  Omar  was  a  native  of  Naishâpûr,1  while  Hasan  Ben 
'Sabbâh's  father  was  one  Ali,  a  man  of  austere  life  and 
'practice,  but  heretical  in  his  creed  and  doctrine.  [He 
had    long    sojourned  in  the  Province  of   Rei.   where  Abu 

1  Ed.  I  :  Naishâpûr.  "  Ed.  I  :  Abd-u-samad. 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  exxxv 

Moslim  Rcizi  was  governor,  a  man  of  pure  life  and  or- 
thodox principles,  who,  like  a  good  Musulman  as  he  was, 
shewed  deep  enmity  to  such  a  heretic.  But  Ali  still  kept 
close  at  his  side,  and  by  lying  oaths  and  protestations, 
sought  to  clear  himself  from  the  insane  words  and  actions 
laid  to  his  charge.  Now  the  Imam  Mowaffak  was  followed 
as  an  example  by  all  orthodox  Musulmans  ;  and  so  this  un- 
happy man,  to  remove  all  suspicion  of  his  heresies,  brought 
his  son  to  Naishâpur,  and  made  him  attend  the  lectures 
of  the  Imam.  He  himself  chose  a  life  of  asceticism  in  a 
cloister  ;  but  even  while  there,  men  rumoured  speeches  of 
heresy  that  he  had  uttered,  sometimes  of  one  kind  and 
sometimes  of  another.  But  to  my  story, — ]  One  day 
'  Hasan  said  to  me  and  to  Khayyam,  '  It  is  a  universal 
'  belief  that  the  pupils  of  the  Imam  Mowaffak  will  attain 
'  to  fortune.  Now,  even  if  we  all  do  not  attain  thereto, 
'  without  doubt  one  of  us  will  ;  what  then  shall  be  our 
'mutual  pledge  and  bond?'  We  answered,  'Be  it  what 
'you  please.'  'Well,'  he  said,  'let  us  make  a  vow,  that  to 
'  whomsoever  this  fortune  falls,  he  shall  share  it  equally 
'  with  the  rest,  and  reserve  no  pre-eminence  for  himself.' 
"  Be  it  so,'  we  both  replied,  and  on  those  terms  we  mutually 
'pledged  our  words.  Years  rolled  on,  and  I  went  from 
'  Khorassan  to  Transoxiana,  and  wandered  to  Ghazni  and 
'  Cabul  ;  and  when  I  returned,  I  was  invested  with  office, 
'  and  rose  to  be  administrator  of  affairs  during  the  Sultanate 
'  of  Sultan  Alp  Arslân.'  [All  editions  here  omit  five  lines  of 
Cowell,  as  well  as  the  bracketed  paragraph  above.] 


cxxxvi  Omar  Khayyàm, 

"  He  goes  on  to  state,  that  years  passed  by,  and  both  his 
old  school-friends  found  him  out,  and  came  and  claimed 
a  share  in  his  good  fortune,  according  to  the  school-day 
vow.  The  Vizier  was  generous  and  kept  his  word.  Hasan 
demanded  a  place  in  the  government,  which  the  Sultan 
granted  at  the  Vizier's  request  ;  but  discontented  with  a 
gradual  rise,  he  plunged  into  the  maze  of  intrigue  of  an 
oriental  court,  and  failing  in  a  base  attempt  to  supplant  his 
benefactor,  he  was  disgraced  and  fell.  [His  subsequent 
adventures  are  one  of  the  romances  of  Oriental  history. — C] 
After  many  mishaps  and  wanderings,  Hasan  became  the 
head  of  the  Persian  sect  of  the  Ismailians,  —  a  party  of 
fanatics  who  had  long  murmured  in  obscurity,  but  rose  to 
an  evil  eminence  under  the  guidance  of  his  strong  and  evil 
will.  In  a.D.1  1090,  he  seized  the  castle  of  Alami'it,  in  the 
province  of  Rüdbar,  which  lies  in  the  mountainous  tract 
south  of  the  Caspian  Sea;  [Here  he  fixed  his  stronghold] 
and  it  was  from  this  mountain  home  he  2  obtained  that  evil 
celebrity  among  the  Crusaders  as  the  OLD  MAN  OF  THE 
MOUNTAINS,3  and  spread  terror  through  the  Mohamme- 
dan world  ;  and  it  is  yet  disputed  whether  the  word  Assas- 
sin, which  they  have  left  in  the  language  of  modern  Europe 
as  their  dark  memorial,  is  derived  from  the  hashish,  or 
opiate  of  hemp-leaves  (the  Indian  bhang),  with  which  they 
maddened  themselves   to  the  sullen  pitch  of  oriental  des- 

1  Ed.  I  :  A.  B.  2  Cowell  :  that  the  Shekh. 

3  Cowell  :  From  Alami'it  issued  those  fierce  fanatics  who,  in  blind 
devotion  to  their  chief's  commands,  spread. 


llic  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  exxxvii 

peration,  or  from  the  name  of  the  founder  of  the  dynasty, 
whom  we  have  seen  in  his  quiet  collegiate  days,  at  Naish- 
âpûr. [To  complete  the  picture,  we  need  only  add  that,] 
One  of  the  countless  victims  of  the  assassin's  dagger  was 
Nizâm- ul-Mulk  himself,  the  old  school-boy  friend.* 

"  Omar  Khayyam  also  came  to  the  Vizier  to  claim  his 
share  ;  but  not  to  ask  for  title  or  office.  '  The  greatest 
'boon  you  can  confer  on  me,'  he  said,  'is  to  let  me  live  in  a 
'corner  under  the  shadow  of  your  fortune,  to  spread  wide 
'the  advantages  of  Science,  and  pray  for  your  long  life  and 
'prosperity.'  The  Vizier  tells  us,  that,  when  he  found  [that 
he]  Omar  was  really  sincere  in  his  refusal,  he  pressed 
him  no  further,  but  granted  him  a  yearly  pension  of  1,200 
mithkàls  of  gold,  from  the  treasury  o{'  Naishâpûr.1 

"At  Naishâpûr  thus  lived  and  died  Omar  Kavvam, 
'busied,'  adds  the  Vizier,  'in  winning  knowledge  of  every 
'  kind,  and  especially  in  Astronomy,  wherein  he  attained  to 
'a  very  high  pre-eminence.  Under  the  Sultanate  of  Malik 
'  Shah,  he  came  to  Merv,  and  obtained  great  praise  for  his 
'  proficiency  in  science,  and  the  Sultan  showered  favours 
'  upon  him.'  [Of  Omar's  attainments  as  an  astronomer  we 
have  ample  proof.  —  C] 

1  Ed.  I  :  Naishâpûr. 

*  Some  of  Omar's  Rubâiyât  warn  us  of  the  danger  of  Greatness, 
the  instability  of  Fortune,  and  while  advocating  Charity  to  ill  Men, 
recommending  us  to  be  too  intimate  with  none.  Attâr  makes  \i/am- 
ul-Mulk  use  the  very  words  of  his  friend  Omar  [Rub.  xxviii.]  [xxxi.,  Ed. 
II],  "When  Nizâm-ul-Mulk  was  in  the  Agony  (of  Death)  he  said, 
'  Oh  God  !  I  am  passing  away  in  the  hand  of  the  Wind."'  [This  note 
not  in  Ed.  I.] 


cxxxviii  Omar  Khayyam, 

"  When  Malik  Shah  determined  to  reform  the  calendar, 
Omar1  was  one  of  the  eight  learned  men  employed  to  do  it  ; 
[and]  the  result  was  the  Jalàli  era  (so  called  from  Jalàl- 
ud-din,2  one  of  the  king's  names)  — 'a  computation  of  time,' 
says  Gibbon,  'which  surpasses  the  Julian,  and  approaches 
the  accuracy  of  the  Gregorian  style.'  He  is  also  the  author 
of  some  astronomical  tables,  entitled  Ziji-Malikshâhi,"  3  and 
the  French  have  lately  republished  and  translated  an  Arabic 
Treatise  of  his  on  Algebra.  [These  severer  Studies,  and 
his  Verses,  which,  though  happily  fewer  than  any  Persian 
Poet's,  and,  though  perhaps  fugitively  composed,  the  Result 
of  no  fugitive  Emotion  or  Thought,  are  probably  the  Work 
and  Event  of  his  Life,  leaving  little  else  to  record.  Perhaps 
he  liked  a  little  Farming  too,  so  often  as  he  speaks  of  the 
"  Edge  of  the  Tilth  "  on  which  he  loved  to  rest  with  his 
Diwân  of  Verse,  his  Loaf,  —  and  his  Wine.  —  Ed.  I.] 

[Of  the  particular  incidents  of  his  life  we  know  little 
enough,  but  probably  there  was  little  to  know.  A  life  like 
his,  spent  in  quiet  toil,  — 

And  hiving  knowledge  with  studious  years,  — 

leaves  little  for  the  chronicler  to  record.  —  C.] 

'•'His  Takhallus  or  poetical  name  (Khayyam)  signifies  a 
Tent-maker,  and  he  is  said  to  have  at  one  time  exercised 

1  Cowell:  he.  2  Y.&.\,Jalal-nl-din;  1Là..Y\,Jalal-u-din. 

3  Cowell:  entitled  Ziji-Malikshâhi  and  we  have  placed  at  the 
head  of  our  article  a  treatise  of  his  which  has  been  lately  translated 
and  published  in  Europe. 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  <  xxxix 

that  trade,  perhaps  before  Nizâm-ul-Mulk's  generosity  raised 
him  to  independence.  Many  Persian  poets  similarly  derive 
their  names  from  their  occupations;  thus  we  have  Attar,  'a 

druggist,'  Assâr,  'an  oil  presser,'  &c*  Omar  himself  alludes 
to  his  name  in  the  following  whimsical  lines  :  — 

'  Khayyam,  who  stitched  the  tents  of  science, 
Has  fallen  in  grief's  furnace  and  been  suddenly  burned; 
The  shears  of  Fate  have  cut  the  tent  ropes  of  his  life, 
And  the  broker  of  Hope  has  sold  him  for  nothing  !  ' 

[Kheyam,  qui  cousait  les  tentes  de  la  philosophie,  Nicolas 
est  tombe  tout  à  coup  dans  le  creuset  du  chagrin 
et  s'y  est  brûlé.     Les   ciseaux  de  la  Parque  sont 
venus  trancher  le  fil  de  son  existence,  et  le  reven- 
deur empressé  l'a  cédé  pour  rien. 

Khayyam,  who  sewed  the  tents  of  learning,  has  McCarthy 
fallen  suddenly  into  the  crater  of  despair,  and  there 
lies  calcined.     The  knife  of  fate  has  cut  his  being's 
thread,  and  the  impatient  world  has  sold  him  for  a 
song. 

Khayyam,    who   long   time   stitched   the   tents   of  Whinfield 
learning,  (8^) 

Has  fallen  into  a  furnace,  and  lies  burning, 

Death's    shears    have     cut    his     thread    of     life 
asunder, 

Fate's  brokers  sell  him  off  with  scorn  and  spurning. 

*  Though  all  these,  like  our  Smiths,  Archers,  Millers,  Fletchers, 
&C,  may  simply  retain  the  Surname  of  an  hereditary  calling.  I  In 
Ed.  I  this  follows  in  the  text  in  a  parenthesis.] 


cxl  Omar  Khayyam, 

Garner  Khayyam,    who  stitched   the  Tents    of   Wisdom's 

(XL  9)  Lore, 

Is  fallen  in  the  Pit  and  covered  o'er  ; 

Death's  shears  have  cut  the  Tent-ropes  of   his 
Life 
The  World  has  cast  him  out  as  worthless  Store. 

Von  Schaek    Der  ich  der  Weisheit  Zelte  sonst  genäht,  nun  vom 
(2°4)  Geschicke, 

Das  im  Zerstören  sich  gefällt  und  Morden, 
Zerschnitten  wurden   mir  in  Gram  und  Weh  des 
Lebens  Stricke 
Und  sind  für  nichts  versteigert  worden. 

Bodenstedt    Chajjam,  der  die  Zelte  des  Wissens  genäht, 
(III.  9)        Versinkt  einst  in's  Nichts  mit  all'  seinem  Gerät. 
Durchschnitten  wird  ihm  der  Lebensfaden, 
Und    die    Welt    verkauft    seinen    Nachlass     mit 
Schaden. 

The  poet,  says  Bodenstedt,  signifies  by  this  humorous 
conclusion  how  little  he  takes  into  account  the  impor- 
tance of  being  understood  by  the  valgus  profanum.] 

"  We  have  only  one  more  anecdote  to  give  of  his  Life, 
and  that  relates  to  the  close  ;  [related]  it  is  told  in  the  anony- 
mous preface  which  is  sometimes  prefixed  to  his  poems  ;  it 
has  been  printed  in  the  Persian  in  the  appendix  to  Hyde's 
Veterum  Persarum  Religio,  p.  499;  and  D'Herbelot  al- 
ludes to  it  in  his  Bibliothèque,  under  Khiam  :  —  * 

*  [Ed.  I  :  Though  he  attributes  the  story  to  a  Khiam,]  "  Philo- 
sophe Musulman  qui  a  vécu  en  Odeur  de  Sainteté  dans  la  Fin  du 


The  Astronomer-Poet  of  Persia.  cxli 

"  '  It  is  written  in  the  chronicles  of  the  ancients  that 
'this  king  of  the  wise,  Omar  Khayyam,  died  at  Naishâpûr 

premier  et  le  Commencement  du  second  Siècle,"  no  part  of  which, 
except  the  "  Philosophe,"  can  apply  to  our  Khayyam  [who,  however, 
may  claim  the  Story  as  his,  on  the  score  of  Rubâiyât  77  and  78  of 
the  present  Version.  The  Rashness  of  the  Words  according  to 
D'Herbelot,  consisted  in  being  so  opposed  to  those  in  the  Koran: 
"  No  man  knows  where  he  shall  die."] 

[D'Herbelot's  words  copied  from  the  second  volume  of  the  edition 
published  at  The  Hague  in  1777  are  as  follows:  — 

"  Khiam.  Nom  d'un  Philosophe  Musulman  qui  a  vécu  en  odeur 
de  Sainteté  dans  sa  Religion,  vers  la  fin  du  premier  &  le  commence- 
ment du  second  Siècle  de  l'IIegire. 

"L'an  105  ou  106  de  l'Hegire,  un  jour  ce  Philosophe  dit,  étant  en 
compagnie  de  cpielques-uns  de  ses  amis  :  Mon  sépulcre  doit  être  en 
un  lieu  qui  sera  couvert  de  fleurs  tous  les  ans  au  printemps.  Un  de 
ceux  qui  étoient  présens  ;  &  c'est  l'Auteur  du  Livre  intitulé  Mag'mâ 
alnaudir,  qui  raconte  cet  événement,  dit  alors  en  lui-même  :  Est-il 
possible  qu'un  homme  si  sage  avance  une  parole  si  contraire  à  celle 
de  Dieu,  qui  dit  dans  l'Alcoran  :  V  ma  tadhri  nefes  beàï  ardh  tamaut  ; 
Personne  ne  sçait  en  quel  lieu  il  mourra.  Plusieurs  années  après,  cette 
même  personne  étant  allée  au  printemps  à  Nischabour  en  Khorassan, 
pour  visiter  ce  Personnage,  qui  étoit  mort  en  réputation  de  Sainteté, 
trouva  que  son  sépulcre  étoit  au  pied  de  la  muraille  d'un  jardin,  où 
les  arbres  chargez  de  fleurs  &  entrelassez  les  uns  avec  les  autres,  le 
couvroient  tellement,  qu'on  ne  le  voyoit  point  ;  &  cela  fit  qu'il 
rappella  dans  sa  memoire  ce  qu'il  en  avoit  entendu  dire  autrefois." 

Justin  Huntly  McCarthy  thus  translates  the  D'Herbelot  legend: 

"  Khiam.  Name  of  a  Mussulman  philosopher  who  lived  in  the 
odour  of  sanctity  in  his  religion,  towards  the  end  of  the  first  and  the 
beginning  of  the  second  century  of  the  Hegira. 

"  In  the  year  CV  or  CVI  of  the  Hegira  this  philosopher,  being  in 
the    company  of   certain  of    his  friends,  said,    '  Man,    my  sepulchre 


cxlii  Omar  Khayyam, 

'in  the  year  of  the  Hegira,  517  (a.D.  1123)  ;  in  science 
'  he  was  unrivalled,  —  the  very  paragon  of  his  age.  Khwâ- 
'  jah  Nizâmi  of  Samarcand,  who  was  one  of  his  pupils, 
'  relates  the  following  story  :  '  I  often  used  to  hold  conver- 
'  sations  with  my  teacher,  Omar  Khayyam,  in  a  garden  ; 
'  and  one  day  he  said  to  me,  '  My  tomb  shall  be  in  a  spot 
'  where  the  north  wind  may  scatter  roses  over  it.'  I  won- 
•  dered  at  the  words  he  spake,  but  I  knew  that  his  were 
'  no  idle  words.*     Years  after,  when  I  chanced  to  revisit 

*The  Rashness  of  the  Words,  according  to  D'Herbelot,  consisted 
in  being  so  opposed  to  those  in  the  Koran  :  "  No  Man  knows  where 
he  shall  die."  —  This  Story  of  Omar  [recalls  a  very  different  one.  — 
Ed.  II]  reminds  me  of  another  so  naturally  —  and,  when  one  re- 
members how  wide  of  his  humble  mark  the  noble  sailor  aimed  — so 
pathetically  told  by  Captain  Cook  —  not  by  Doctor  Hawkesworth  — 
in  his  Second  Voyage  [i.  374].  When  leaving  Ulietea,  "Oreo's  last 
request  was  for  me  to  return.  When  he  saw  he  could  not  obtain 
that  promise,  he  asked  the  name  of  my  Marat  —  Burying-place.  As 
strange  a  question  as  this  was,  I  hesitated  not  a  moment  to  tell 
him  '  Stepney,'  the  parish  in  which  I  live  when  in  London.  I  was 
made  to  repeat  it  several  times  over  till  they  could  pronounce  it  ; 
and  then  '  Stepney  Marai  no  Toote  [e]  '  was  echoed  through  a  hun- 
dred mouths  at  once.  I  afterwards  found  the  same  question  had  been 
put  to  Mr.  Forster  by  a  man  on  shore  ;  but  he  gave  a  different,  and 
indeed  more  proper  answer,  by  saying,  '  No  man  who  used  the  sea 
could  say  where  he  should  be  buried.'  "     [This  note  is  not  in  Ed.  I.] 


ought  to  be  in  some  spot  where  the  Spring  may  cover  it  with  blos- 
soms  every  year.'  One  of  those  who  was  present,  and  who  is  the 
author  of  the  book  called  '  Mag'ma  Alnauadir,'  who  chronicles  this 
event,  said  thereupon  unto  himself,  '  Is  it  possible  that  a  man  so  wise 


The  Astronomer-Poet  of  Persia.  cxliii 

'  Naishapilr,*  I  went  to  his  final  resting-place,  and  lo  !  it 
'  was  just  outside  a  garden,  and  trees  laden  with  fruit 
'stretched  their  boughs  over  the  garden  wall,  and  dropped 
'their  flowers  upon  his  tomb,  so  as  the  stone  was  hidden 
'  under  them.'  " 

Thus  far  —  without  fear  of  Trespass  —  from  the  Calcutta 
Review.  The  writer  of  it,  on  reading  in  India  this  story 
of  Omar's  Grave,  was  reminded,  he  says,  of  Cicero's  Ac- 
count of  finding  Archimedes'  Tomb  at  Syracuse,  buried  in 
grass  and  weeds.  I  think  Thorwaldsen  desired  to  have 
roses  grow  over  him  ;  a  wish  religiously  fulfilled  for  him 
to  the  present  day,  I  believe.  However,  to  return  to 
Omar.1 

Though  the  Sultan  "  shower' d  Favours  upon  him." 
Omar's  Epicurean  Audacity  of  Thought  and  Speech  caused 
him  to  be  regarded  askance  in  his  own  Time  and  Country. 

1  The  sentences  from  the  word  "  Review  "  to  the  paragraph  begin- 
ning "  Though  "  were  not  in  Ed.  I. 


should  utter  words  so  contrary  to  those  of  God  who  lays  it  down  in 
the  Koran,  "  No  man  knows  in  what  spot  he  shall  die  ?  "  ' 

"  Many  years  after,  this  same  individual  being  on  a  journey  to 
Nischabour  in  Khorassan,  to  visit  this  personage,  who  had  died  in 
the  odour  of  sanctity,  found  that  his  sepulchre  was  at  the  foot  of 
the  wall  of  a  garden  where  the  trees,  loaded  with  flowers  and  netted 
one  within  the  other,  so  completely  covered  it,  that  it  was  impossible 
to  see  it  ;  and  this  brought  back  to  his  memory  what  he  had  heard 
spoken  formerly."] 
*  Ed.  I  :  Naishâpur. 


cxliv  Omar  Khayyâm, 

He  is  said  to  have  been  especially  hated  and  dreaded  by 
the  Süfis,  whose  Practice  he  ridiculed,  and  whose  Faith 
amounts  to  little  more  than  his  own  when  stript  of  the 
Mysticism  and  formal  recognition  of  Islamism  under  which 
Omar  would  not  hide.1  Their  Poets,  including  Hâfiz,  who 
are  (with  the  exception  of  Firdausi 2)  the  most  considerable 
in  Persia,  borrowed  largely,  indeed,  of  Omar's  material, 
but  turning  it  to  a  mystical  Use  more  convenient  to  Them- 
selves and  the  People  they  addressed  ; 3  a  People  quite  as 
quick  of  Doubt  as  of  Belief;  [quite]  as  keen  of  [the] 
Bodily  Sense [s]  as  of  [the]  Intellectual;  and  delighting 
in  a  cloudy  composition  of  both,4  in  which  they  could  float 
luxuriously  between  Heaven  and  Earth,  and  this  World  and 
the  Next,  on  the  wings  of  a  poetical  expression,  that  might 
serve  indifferently  for  either.5  Omar  was  too  honest  of 
Heart  as  well  as  of  Head  for  this.  Having  failed  (how- 
ever mistakenly)  of  finding  any  Providence  but  Destiny, 
and  any  Work!  but  This,  he  set  about  making  the  most  of 
it  ;  preferring  rather  to  soothe  the  Soul  through  the  Senses 
into  Acquiescence  with  Things  as  he  saw  them,6  than  to 
perplex  it  with  vain  disquietude 7  after  what  they  might  be. 
It  has  been  seen,  however,8  that  his  Worldly  Ambition9  was 

1  Ed.  I  :  compliment  of  Islamism  which  Omar  would  not  hide  under. 

2  Ed.  I  :  Firdusi.  3  Ed.  I  :  address'd. 

4  Ed.  I  :  cloudy  Element  compounded  of  all. 

5  Ed.  I  :  could  be  recited  indifferently  whether  at  the  Mosque  or 
the  Tavern. 

6  Ed.  T  :  as  they  were.  7  Ed.  I  :  mortifications. 

8  Ed.  I  :  It  has  been  seen  that.  9  Desires  however  were. 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  c  \lv 

not  exorbitant;  and  he  very  likely  takes  a  humorous  or 
perverse  pleasure  in  exalting  the  gratification  of  Sense 
above  that  of  the  Intellect,  in  which  he  must  have  taken 
great  delight,  although  it  failed  to  answer  the  Questions  in 
which  he,  in  common  with  all  men,  was  most  vitally 
interested.1 

1  Ed.  I  :  humourous  pleasure  in  exaggerating  them  above  that 
Intellect  in  whose  exercise  he  must  have  found  great  pleasure, 
though  not  in  a  Theological  direction.  However  this  may  be,  his 
Worldly  Pleasures  are  what  they  profess  to  be  without  any  Pre- 
tense at  divine  Allegory:  his  Wine  is  the  veritable  Juice  of  the 
Grape:  his  Tavern  where  it  was  to  be  had  :  his  Sâki,  the  Flesh  and 
Blood  that  poured  it  out  for  him:  all  which,  and  where  the  Roses 
were  in  Bloom,  was  all  he  profess'd  to  want  of  this  World  or  to  ex- 
pect of  Paradise. 

The  Mathematic  Faculty,  too,  which  regulated  his  Fansy,  and  con- 
densed his  Verse  to  a  Quality,  and  Quantity  unknown  in  Persian, 
perhaps  in  Oriental,  Poetry,  help'd  by  its  very  virtue  perhaps  to 
render  him  less  popular  with  his  countrymen.  If  the  Greeks  were 
Children  in  Gossip,  what  does  Persian  Literature  imply  but  a  Second 
Childishness  of  Garrulity?  And  certainly  if  no  ungeometric  Greek 
was  to  enter  Plato's  School  of  Philosophy,  no  so  unchastis'd  a  Per- 
sian should  enter  on  the  Race  of  Persian  Verse,  with  its  "fatal 
Facility  "  of  running  on  long  after  Thought  is  winded!  Put  Omar 
was  not  only  the  single  Mathematician  of  his  Country's  Poets;  he 
was  also  of  that  older  Time  and  stouter  Temper,  before  the  native 
Soul  of  Persia  was  quite  broke  by  a  foreign  Creed  as  well  as  foreign 
Conquest.  Like  his  great  Predecessor  Firdusi,  who  was  as  little  ol 
a  Mystic;  who  scorned  to  use  even  a  Word  of  the  very  language 
in  which  the  New  Faith  came  clothed;  and  who  was  suspected,  nol 
of  Omar's  Irreligion  indeed,  but  of  secretly  clinging  to  the  ant  uni 
Fire-Religion  of  Zerdusht,  of  which  so  ma:. y  of  tin-  kings  lie  sang 

were  Worshippers. 

io 


cxlvi  Omar  Khayyam, 

For  whatever  Reason,  however,  Omar,  as  before  said, 
has  never  been  popular  in  his  own  Country,  and  therefore 
has  been  but  scantily 1  transmitted  abroad.  The  MSS.  of 
his  Poems,  mutilated  beyond  the  average  Casualties  of 
Oriental  Transcription,  are  so  rare  in  the  East  as  scarce  to 
have  reacht  Westward  at  all,  in  spite  of  all  the  acquisitions 
of  Arms  and  Science.2  There  is  no  copy  at  the  India 
House,  none  at  the  Bibliothèque  Nationale3  of  Paris.  We 
know  but  of  one  in  England  :  No.  140  of  the  Ouseley 
MSS.  at  the  Bodleian,  written  at  Shiraz,  a.  d.  1460.  This 
contains  but  158  Rubâiyât.4  One  in  the  Asiatic  Society's 
Library  at  Calcutta  (of  which  we  have  a  Copy),  contains 
(and  yet  incomplete)  516,  though  swelled  to  that  by  all 
kinds  of  Repetition  and  Corruption.  So  Von  Hammer 
speaks  of  his  Copy  as  containing  about  200,  while  Dr. 
Sprenger  catalogues  the  Lucknow  MS.  at  double  that 
number.*  The  Scribes,  too,  of  the  Oxford  and  Calcutta 
MSS.  seem  to  do  their  Work  under  a  sort  of  Protest  ;  each 
beginning   with   a   Tetrastich    (whether   genuine  or   not), 

1  Ed.  I  :  charily. 

2  Ed.  I  :  in  spite  of  all  that  Arms  and  Science  have  brought  us. 
There  is  none. 

3  Eds.  I  and  II:  Bibliothèque  Imperiale. 

*  Ed.  I  :  Rabâiyât. 

*  "  Since  this  Paper  was  written  "  (adds  the  Reviewer  in  a  note), 
"we  have  met  with  a  Copy  of  a  very  rare  Edition,  printed  at  Cal- 
cutta in  1836.  This  contains  438  Tetrastichs,  with  an  Appendix 
containing  54  others  not  found  in  some  MSS." 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  cxlvii 

taken  out  of  its  alphabetical1  order;  the  Oxford  with  one 
of  Apology;  the  Calcutta  with  one  of  Expostulation,2  sup- 
posed (says  a  Notice  prefixed  to  the  MS.)  to  have  arisen 
from  a  Dream,  in  which  Omar's  mother  asked  about  his 
future  fate.     It  may  be  rendered  thus  :  — 

"Oh,  Thou  who  burn'st  in  Heart  for  those  who  burn 
"  In  Hell,  whose  fires  thyself  shall  feed  in  turn  : 
"  How  long  be  crying,  '  Mercy  on  them,  God  !  ' 
"  Why,  who  art  Thou  to  teach,  and  He  to  learn  ?  " 

[O  toi  qui  as  été  brûlé,  puis  brûlé  encore,  et  qui  mérites  de  l'être 
derechef!  toi  qui  n'es  digne  que  d'aller  attiser  le  feu  de  l'enfer! 
jusques  à  quand  prieras-tu  la  Divinité  de  pardonner  à  Omar?  Quel 
rapport  existe-t-il  entre  toi  et  Dieu?  Quelle  audace  te  pousse  à  lui 
apprendre  à  faire  usage  de  sa  miséricorde?     Nicolas  (459) 

Nicolas  says  that  this  imprecation  against  the  faithful  is  all  the 
more  curious  because  it  is  addressed  by  the  poet  to  the  Shiites  (of 
the  sect  of  AH),  who  abhor  the  name  of  Omar,  and  that  Omar  himself 
bore  that  name.  But  perhaps  Omar  Khayyam  did  not  write  it.  See 
Dr.  Hyde's  Latin  translation,  in  Bibliography,  p.  445. 

Thou  who  hast  burned,  who  burnest,  who  deservest  still  to  burn 
feeding  the  fire  of  hell,  why  dost  thou  call  on  God  to  pardon  <  »mar? 
What  has  God  to  do  with  thee?  How  darest  thou  appeal  to  his 
pity?     McCarthy  (310) 

1  Eds.  I  and  II:  alphabetic. 

2  Ed.  I.  of  Execration  too  stupid  for  Omar's,  even  had  Omar 
been  stupid  enough  to  execrate  himself.  [Then  omits  to  "  The 
Reviewer."] 


cxlviii  Omar  Khayyâm, 

Omar  !  of  burning  heart,  perchance  to  burn 
In  hell,  and  feed  its  bale-fires  in  thy  turn, 
Presume  not  to  teach  Allah  clemency, 
For  who  art  thou  to  teach,  or  he  to  learn  ? 

(Whinfield,  488,  1SS3  ;   253,  1SS2.) 

O  Du,  der  Du  verdammt,  in  der  Hölle  zu  brennen, 
Wie  magst  Du  Dich  als  Fürbitter  Omar's  bekennen! 
Wie  magst  Du  Gott  bitten,  sich  sein  zu  erbarmen  ! 
Was  hat  der  Allmächt'ge  zu  thun  mit  Dir  Armen  ! 

(Bodenstedt,  X.  23-) 

After  his  death  Omar  is  said  to  have  appeared  to  his  mother  in  a 
dream,  and  repeated  this  quatrain  to  her.] 

The  Bodleian  Quatrain  pleads  Pantheism  by  way  of 
Justification. 

"  If  I  myself  upon  a  looser  Creed 
"  Have  loosely  strung  the  Jewel  of  Good  deed, 
"  Let  this  one  thing  for  my  Atonement  plead  ■ 
"That  One  for  Two  I  never  did  mis-read."  1 

The  Reviewer,  to  whom  I  owe  the  Particulars  of  Omar's 
Life,  concludes  his  Review  by  comparing  2  him  with  Lucre- 
tius, both  as  to  natural  Temper  and  Genius,  and  as  acted 
upon  by  the  Circumstances  in  which  he  lived.  Both  indeed 
were   men  of  subtle,  strong,  and  cultivated  3  Intellect,  fine 

1  See  Appendix  XXXIV,  Whinfield,  147  (1SS2). 

2  Fd.  I  :  The  Reviewer  who  translates  the  foregoing  Particulars 
of  Omar's  Life  and  some  of  his  Verse  into  Prose,  concludes  by  com- 
paring him  with  Lucretius  both  in. 

3  Ed.  I  :   "  strong  and  cultivated  "  not  used  ;   "  and  high  "  =  fine. 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  cxlix 

Imagination,  and  Hearts1  passionate  for  Truth  and  Justii  e 
who  justly  revolted  from  their  Country's  false  Religion,  and 
false,  or  foolish,  Devotion  to  it  ;  but  who  [yet]  fell  short  of 
replacing  what  they  subverted  by  such  better  Hope  as  others, 
with  no  better  Revelation  to  guide  them,-  had  yet  made  a 
Law  to  themselves.  Lucretius,  indeed,  with  such  material 
as  Epicurus  furnished,  satisfied  3  himself  with  the  theory  of  a 
vast  machine  fortuitously  constructed,  and  acting  by  a  Law 
that  implied  no  Legislator  ; 4  and  so  composing  himself  into 
a  Stoical  rather  than  Epicurean  severity  of  Attitude,  sat 
down  to  contemplate  the  mechanical  Drama  of  the  Universe 
which  he  was  part  Actor  in  ; 5  himself  and  all  about  him 
(as  in  his  own  sublime  description  of  the  Roman  Theatre) 
discoloured  6  with  the  lurid  reflex  of  the  Curtain  suspended 
between  the  Spectator  and  the  Sun.7  Omar,  more  des- 
perate, or  more  careless  of  any  so  complicated  s  System  as 
resulted  in  nothing  but9  hopeless  Necessity,  flung  his  own 
Genius  and  Learning  with  a  bitter  or  humorous  jest10  into 

1  Ed.  I:  instructed  in  Learning  beyond  their  day,  and  of  Hearts. 

2  Ed.  I  :  others  upon  whom  no  better  Failli  hail  dawned. 

3  Ed.  I  :  consoled  himself  with  the  construction  of  a  Machine  that 
needed  no  Constructor. 

1  Ed.  I  :  Lawgiver. 

5  Ed.  I  :  of  which  he  was  part  Actor. 

6  Ed.  I  :  coloured. 

7  Ed.  I  :   that  was  suspended  between  them  and  the  outer  Sun. 

8  Ed.  I  :  such  laborious. 

9  Ed.  I  :  more  than. 

,u  Ed.  I  :   with  a  Litter  jest. 


c]  Omar  Khayyam, 

the  general  Ruin  which  their  insufficient  glimpses  only 
served  to  reveal  ;  and,1  pretending  sensual  pleasure  as  the 
serious  purpose  of  Life,  only  diverted  himself  with  specu- 
lative problems  of  Deity,  Destiny,  Matter  and  Spirit,  Good 
and  Evil,  and  other  such  questions,  easier  to  start  than  to 
run  down,  and  the  pursuit  of  which  becomes  a  very  weary 
sport  at  last  ! 

With  regard  to  the  present  Translation.  The  original 
Rubdiyât  (as,  missing  an  Arabic  Guttural,  these  Tetrastichs 
are  more  musically  called)  are  independent  Stanzas,  con- 
sisting each  of  four  Lines  of  equal,  though  varied,  Prosody  ; 
sometimes  all  rhyming,  but  oftener  (as  here  imitated)  the 
third  line  a  blank.  Sometimes  as  in  2  the  Greek  Alcaic, 
where  the  penultimate  3  line  seems  to  lift  and  suspend  the 
Wave  that  falls  over  in  the  last.  As  usual  with  such  kind 
of  Oriental  Verse,  the  Rubdiyât  follow  one  another  according 
to  Alphabetic  Rhyme  —  a  strange  succession4  of  Grave  and 
Gay.     Those  here  selected  are  strung  into  something  of  an 

1  Ed.  I  :  and  yielding  his  Senses  to  the  actual  Rose  and  Vine,  only 
diverted  his  thought  by  balancing  ideal  possibilities  of  Fate,  Free 
will,  Existence,  and  Annihilation  with  an  oscillation  that  so  generally 
inclined  to  the  negative  and  lower  side,  as  to  make  Such  stanzas  as 
the  following  exceptions  to  his  general  philosophy:  [Tlie/i  follow  the 
quatrains  beginning,  Oh,  if  my  soul  (XLIV),  and,  Or  is  that  but  a 
Tent  (XLV).] 

2  Ed.  I  :  as  here  attempted,  the  third  line  suspending  the  Cadence 
by  which  the  last  atones  with  the  former  Two.     Something  as  in. 

3  Ed.  1  :  third. 

4  Ed.  I  :  Farrago. 


The  Astronomer- Port  of  Persia.  cli 

Eclogue,  with  perhaps  a  less  than  equal  proportion  of  the 
"Drink  and  make  merry,"  which  (genuine  or  not)  recurs 
over-frequently  in  the  Original.  [For  Lucretian  as  Omar's 
Genius  might  be,  he  cross'd  that  darker  Mood  with  much 
of  Oliver  de  Basselin  Humour.  —  Ed.  I.]  Either1  way,  the 
Result  is  sad  enough  :  saddest  perhaps  when  most  ostenta- 
tiously merry  :  more  apt2  to  move  Sorrow  than  Anger  toward 
the  old  Tent-maker,  who,  after  vainly  endeavouring  to  un- 
shackle his  Steps  from  Destiny,  and  to  catch  some  authentic 
Glimpse  of  To-morrow,  fell  back  upon  To-d.vs  :!  (which  has 
outlasted  so  many  To-morrows  !)  as  the  only  Ground  he  got 
to  stand  upon,  however  momentarily  slipping  from  under 
his  Feet. 


While  the  second  Edition  of  this  version  of  Omar  was 
preparing,  Monsieur  Nicolas,  French  Consul  at  Resht, 
published  a  very  careful  and  very  good  Edition  of  the 
Text,  from  a  lithograph  copy  at  Teheran,  comprising  464 
Rubâiyât,  with  translation  and  notes  of  his  own. 

Mons.  Nicolas,  whose  Edition  has  reminded  me  of 
several  things,  and  instructed  me  in  others,  does  not  con- 
sider Omar  to  be  the  material  Epicurean  that  1  have  liter- 
ally taken  him  for,  but  a  Mystic,  shadowing  the  Deity  under 

1  Ed.  I  :  any  way. 

2  Ed.  I  :  merry,  any  way  fitter. 

3  Ed.  I:  Tomorrow  —  Today. 


clii  Omar  Khayyam, 

the  figure  of  Wine,  Wine-bearer,  &c,  as  Hâfiz  is  supposed 
to  do  ;  in  short,  a  Sufi  Poet  like  Hâfiz  and  the  rest. 

I  cannot  see  reason  to  alter  my  opinion,  formed  as  it 
was  more  than  a  dozen  years  ago  when  Omar  was  first 
shown  me  by  one  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  all  I  know 
of  Oriental,  and  very  much  of  other,  literature.  He  ad- 
mired Omar's  Genius  so  much,  that  he  would  gladly  have 
adopted  any  such  Interpretation  of  his  meaning  as  Mons. 
Nicolas'  if  he  could.*  That  he  could  not,  appears  by  his 
Paper  in  the  Calcutta  Review  already  so  largely  quoted  ; 
in  which  he  argues  from  the  Poems  themselves,  as  well  as 
from  what  records  remain  of  the  Poet's  Life. 

And  if  more  were  needed  to  disprove  Mons.  Nicolas' 
Theory,  there  is  the  Biographical  Notice  which  he  himself 
has  drawn  up  in  direct  contradiction  to  the  Interpretation 
of  the  Poems  given  in  his  Notes.  (See  pp.  xiii,  xiv,  of  his 
Preface.)1  Indeed  I  hardly  knew  poor  Omar  was  so  far 
gone  till  his  Apologist  informed  me.  For  here  we  see  that, 
whatever  were  the  Wine  that  Hâfiz  drank  and  sang,  the 
veritable  Juice  of  the  Grape  it  was  which  Omar  used,  not 
only  when    carousing   with    his   friends,    but    (says    Mons. 

1  In  Fitzgerald,  Ed.  II,  Nicolas's  own  words  are  given  :  see  Bibli- 
ography, p.  469. 


*  Perhaps  would  have  edited  the  Poems  himself  some  years  ago. 
He  may  now  as  little  approve  of  my  Version  on  one  side,  as  of 
Mons.  Nicolas'  Theory  on  the  other. 


The  Astronomer- Poet  of  Persia.  clhi 

Nicolas)  in  order  to  excite  himself  to  that  pitch  of  Devo- 
tion which  others  reached  by  cries  and  "  hurlemens." 
And  yet,  whenever  Wine,  Wine-bearer,  &c,  occur  in  the 
Text  —  which  is  often  enough  —  Mons.  Nicolas  carefully 
annotates  "Dieu,"  "La  Divinité,"  &c.  :  so  carefully  indeed 
that  one  is  tempted  to  think  that  he  was  indoctrinated  by 
the  Sufi  with  whom  he  read  the  Poems.  (Nute  to  Rub.  ii. 
p.  8.)  A  Persian  would  naturally  wish  to  vindicate  a  dis- 
tinguished Countryman;  and  a  Süfi  to  enrol  him  in  his  own 
sect,  which  already  comprises  all  the  chief  Poets  of  Persia. 

What  historical  Authority  has  Mons.  Nicolas  to  show 
that  Omar  gave  himself  up  "avec  passion  à  l'étude  de  la 
philosophie  des  Soufis"?  (Preface,  p.  xiii.)  The  Doc- 
trines of  Pantheism,  Materialism,  Necessity,  &c,  were  not 
peculiar  to  the  Sufi  ;  nor  to  Lucretius  before  them  ;  nor  to 
Epicurus  before  him  ;  probably  the  very  original  Irreligion 
of  Thinking  men  from  the  first  ;  and  very  likely  to  be  the 
spontaneous  growth  of  a  Philosopher  living  in  an  Age  of 
social  and  political  barbarism,  under  shadow  of  one  of  the 
Two  and  Seventy  Religions  supposed  to  divide  the  world. 
Von  Hammer  (according  to  Sprenger's  Oriental  Catalogue) 
speaks  of  Omar  as  "  a  Free-thinker,  and  a  great  opponent 
of  Sufis  m  ;"  perhaps  because,  while  holding  much  of  their 
Doctrine,  he  would  not  pretend  to  any  inconsistent  severity 
of  morals.  Sir  W.  Ouseley  has  written  a  note  to  something 
of  the  same  effect  on  the  flydeaf  of  the  Bodleian  MS.  And 
in  two  Rubâiyât  of  Mons.  Nicolas'  own  Edition  Si'if  ami 
Süfi  are  both  disparagingly  named. 


cliv  Omar  Khayyam, 

No  doubt  many  of  these  Quatrains  seem  unaccountable 
unless  mystically  interpreted  ;  but  many  more  as  unac- 
countable unless  literally.  Were  the  Wine  spiritual,  for 
instance,  how  wash  the  Body  with  it  when  dead?  Why 
make  cups  of  the  dead  clay  to  be  filled  with  —  '•'  La 
Divinité"  by  some  succeeding  Mystic?  Mons.  Nicolas 
himself  is  puzzled  by  some  "  bizarres  "  and  "  trop  Orien- 
tales "  allusions  and  images  —  "d'une  sensualité  quelque- 
fois révoltante''  indeed  —  which  "les  convenances"  do 
not  permit  him  to  translate  ;  but  still  which  the  reader 
cannot  but  refer  to  "  La  Divinité."  *  No  doubt  also  many 
of  the  Quatrains  in  the  Teheran,  as  in  the  Calcutta,  Copies, 
are  spurious  ;  such  Rubàiyàt  being  the  common  form  of 
Epigram  in  Persia.  But  this,  at  best,  tells  as  much  one 
way  as  another  ;  nay,  the  Süfi,  who  may  be  considered 
the  Scholar  and  Man  of  Letters  in  Persia,  would  be  far 
more  likely  than   the  careless  Epicure  to  interpolate  what 


*  A  note  to  Quatrain  234  admits  that,  however  clear  the  mystical 
meaning  of  such  Images  must  be  to  Europeans,  they  are  not  quoted 
without  "rougissant"  even  by  laymen  in  Persia — "Quant  aux 
termes  de  tendresse  qui  commencent  ce  quatrain,  comme  tant 
d'autres  dans  ce  recueil,  nos  lecteurs,  habitués  maintenant  à  l'étran- 
geté  des  expressions  si  souvent  employées  par  Khéyam  pour  rendre 
ses  pensées  sur  l'amour  divin,  et  à  la  singularité  des  images  trop 
orientales,  d'une  sensualité  quelquefois  révoltante,  n'auront  pas  de 
peine  à  se  persuader  qu'il  s'agit  de  la  Divinité,  bien  que  cette  con- 
viction soit  vivement  discutée  par  les  moullahs  musulmans,  et  même 
par  beaucoup  de  laïques,  qui  rougissent  véritablement  d'une  pareille 
licence  de  leur  compatriote  à  l'égard  des  choses  spirituelles." 


The  Astronomer-  Poet  of  Persia.  civ 

favours  his  own  view  of  the  Poet.  1  observe  that  very 
few  of  the  more  mystical  Quatrains  are  in  the  Bodleian 
MS.,  which  must  be  one  of  the  oldest,  as  dated  at  Shiraz, 
A.  H.  865,  A.  D.  1460.  And  this,  1  think,  especially  dis- 
tinguishes Omar  (I  cannot  help  calling  him  by  his  —  no, 
not  Christian  —  familiar  name)  from  all  other  Persian 
Poets  :  That,  whereas  with  them  the  Poet  is  lost  in  his 
Song,  the  Man  in  Allegory  and  Abstraction  ;  we  seem  to 
have  the  Man  —  the  Bonhomme — Omar  himself,  with  all 
his  Humours  and  Passions,  as  frankly  before  us  as  if  we 
were  really  at  Table  with  him,  after  the  Wine  had  gone 
round. 

I  must  say  that  I,  for  one,  never  wholly  believed  in  the 
Mysticism  of  Hafiz.  It  does  not  appear  there  was  any 
danger  in  holding  and  singing  Sufi  Pantheism,  so  long  as 
the  Poet  made  his  Salaam  to  Mohammed  at  the  beginning 
and  end  of  his  Song.  Under  such  conditions  Jelâluddin, 
Jâmi,  Attâr,  and  others  sang;  using  Wine  and  Beauty 
indeed  as  Images  to  illustrate,  not  as  a  Mask  to  hide,  the 
Divinity  they  were  celebrating.  Perhaps  some  Allegory 
less  liable  to  mistake  or  abuse  had  been  better  among  so 
inflammable  a  People  :  much  more  so  when,  as  some  think 
with  Hâfiz  and  Omar,  the  abstract  is  not  only  likened  to. 
but  identified  with,  the  sensual  Image  ;  hazardous,  if  not 
to  the  Devotee  himself,  yet  to  his  weaker  Urethren  ;  and 
worse  for  the  Profane  in  proportion  as  the  1  )evotion  of  the 
Initiated  grew  warmer.  And  all  for  what?  To  be  tanta- 
lized with    Images  of   sensual    enjoyment    which    must   be 


elvi  Omar  Khayyam. 

renounced  if  one  would  approximate  a  God,  who  according 
to  the  Doctrine,  is  Sensual  Matter  as  well  as  Spirit,  and 
into  whose  Universe  one  expects  unconsciously  to  merge 
after  Death,  without  hope  of  any  posthumous  Beatitude  in 
another  world  to  compensate  for  all  one's  self-denial  in  this. 
Lucretius'  blind  Divinity  certainly  merited,  and  probably 
got,  as  much  self-sacrifice  as  this  of  the  Süfi  ;  and  the 
burden  of  Omar's  Song  —  if  not  "Let  us  eat"  —  is  assur- 
edly—  "Let  us  drink,  for  To-morrow  we  die!"  And  if 
Hâfiz  meant  quite  otherwise  by  a  similar  language,  he 
surely  miscalculated  when  he  devoted  his  Life  and  Genius 
to  so  equivocal  a  Psalmody  as,  from  his  Day  to  this, 
has  been  said  and  sung  by  any  rather  than  spiritual 
Worshippers. 

However,  as  there  is  some  traditional  presumption,  and 
certainly  the  opinion  of  some  learned  men,  in  favour  of 
(  )mar's  being  a  Süfi  —  and  even  something  of  a  Saint  — 
those  who  please  may  so  interpret  his  Wine  and  Cup- 
bearer. On  the  other  hand,  as  there  is  far  more  historical 
certainty  of  his  being  a  Philosopher,  of  scientific  Insight 
and  Ability  far  beyond  that  of  the  Age  and  Country  he 
lived  in  ;  of  such  moderate  worldly  Ambition  as  becomes 
a  Philosopher,  and  such  moderate  wants  as  rarely  satisfy  a 
Debauchee  ;  other  readers  may  be  content  to  believe  with 
me  that,  while  the  Wine  Omar  celebrates  is  simply  the 
Juice  of  the  Grape,  he  bragg'd  more  than  he  drank  of  it, 
in  very  defiance  perhaps  of  that  Spiritual  Wine  which  left 
its  Votaries  sunk  in  Hypocrisy  or  Disgust. 


R  U  B  A  I Y  A  T 

OF 

OMAR   KHAYYAM    OF   NAISHÄPÜR. 
{From  FitzGerald  's  Second  Edition^  1868.) 


Wake  !  For  the  Sun  behind  yon  Eastern  height 
Has  chased  the  Session  of  the  Stars  from  Night, 

And,  to  the  field  of  Heav'n  ascending,  strikes 
The  Sultan's  Turret  with  a  Shaft  of  Litrht. 


II. 


Before  the  phantom  of  False  morning  died,1 
Methought  a  Voice  within  the  Tavern  cried, 
"  When  all  the  Temple  is  prepared  within, 
"  Why  lags  the  drowsy  Worshipper  outside  ?  " 


And,  as  the  Cock  crew,  those  who  stood  before 
The  Tavern  shouted  —  "Open  then  the  Door! 
"  You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to  stay, 
"  And,  once  departed,  may  return  no  more." 


clviii  Rubàiyàt  of 


Now  the  New  Year  reviving  old  Desires  '2, 
The  thoughtful  Soul  to  Solitude  retires, 

Where  the  White  Hand  of  Moses  on  the  Bough 
Puts  out,  and  Jesus  from  the  ground  suspires.3 


Irani  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Rose,4 

And  Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd  Cup  where  no  one  knows  ; 

But  still  a  Ruby  gushes  from  the  Vine, 
And  many  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 

VI. 

And  David's  lips  are  lockt  ;  but  in  divine  5 
High-piping  Péhlevi,  with  "Wine!  Wine!  Wine! 

"  Red  Wine  !  "  —  the  Nightingale  cries  to  the  Rose 
That  sallow  cheek0  of  her's  to  incarnadine. 


VII. 

Come,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  fire  of  Spring 
Your  Winter-garment  of  Repentance  fling  : 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter  —  and  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing. 

VIII. 

Whether  at  Naishâpiir  or  Babylon, 
Whether  the  Cup  with  sweet  or  bitter  run, 

The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop  by  drop, 
The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  one. 


Omar  Khayyàm.  dix 


Morning  a  thousand  Roses  brings,  you  say; 
Yes,  but  where  leaves  the  Kose  of  yesterday  ? 

And  this  first  Summer  month  that  brings  the  Rose 
Shall  take  Jamshyd  and  Kaikobäd  away. 


Well,  let  it  take  them  !     What  have  we  to  do 
With  Kaikobäd  the  Great,  or  Kaikhosru  ? 

Let  Rustum  cry  "  To  Battle  "  as  he  likes,7 
Or  Hâtim  Tai  "  To  Supper  !  "  —  heed  not  you. 


With  me  along  the  strip  of  Herbage  strown 
That  just  divides  the  desert  from  the  sown, 

Where  name  of  Slave  and  Sultan  is  forgot  — 
And  Peace  to  Mâhmud  on  his  golden  Throne  ! 


Here  with  a  little  Bread  beneath  the  Bough, 
A  Flask  of  Wine,  a  Book  of  Verse  —  and  Thou 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness  — 
Oh,  Wilderness  were  Paradise  enow  ! 


Some  for  the  Glories  of  This  World  ;  and  some 
Sigh  for  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  come  ; 

Ah,  take  the  Cash,  and  let  the  Promise  go. 
Nor  heed  the  rumble  of  a  distant  Drum  !  s 


clx  Rubàiyàt  of 


Were  it  not  Folly,  Spider-like  to  spin 

The  Thread  of  present  Life  away  to  win  — 

What  ?  for  ourselves,  who  know  not  if  we  shall 
Breathe  out  the  very  Breath  we  now  breathe  in  ! 


Look  to  the  blowing  Rose  about  us  —  "  Lo, 
"  Laughing,"  she  says,  "  into  the  world  I  blow  : 

"  At  once  the  silken  tassel  of  my  Purse 
"  Tear,  and  its  Treasure  on  the  Garden  throw." 

XVI. 

For  those  who  husbanded  the  Golden  grain, 
And  those  who  flung  it  to  the  winds  like  Rain, 

Alike  to  no  such  aureate  Earth  are  turn'd 
As,  buried  once,  Men  want  dug  up  again. 

XVII. 

The  Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes —  or  it  prospers  ;   and  anon, 

Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two  —  was  gone. 

XVIII. 

Think,  in  this  batter'd  Caravanserai 

Whose  Portals  are  alternate  Night  and  Day, 

How  Sultan  after  Sultan  with  his  Pomp 
Abode  his  destin'd  Hour,  and  went  his  way. 


Omar  Khaxxâm.  clxi 


XIX. 


They  say  the  Lion  and  the  Lizard  keep 

The  Courts  wherejamsliyd  gloried  and  drank  deep:  10 

And  Bahrain,  that  great  Hunter  —  the  Wild  Ass 
Stamps  o'er  his  Head,  but  cannot  break  his  Sleep. 


XX. 


The  Palace  that  to  Heav'n  his  pillars  threw, 
And  Kings  the  forehead  on  his  threshold  drew  — 

I  saw  the  solitary  Ringdove  there, 
And  "  Coo,  coo,  coo,"  she  cried;  and  "  Coo,  coo,  coo." 


XXI. 

Ah,  my  Beloved,  fill  the  Cup  that  clears 
To-day  of  past  Regrets  and  future  Fears  : 

To-morrow  !  —  Why,  To-morrow  I  may  be 
Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  thousand  Years.12 


For  some  we  loved,  the  loveliest  and  the  best 
That  from  his  Vintage  rolling  Time  has  prest, 

Have  drunk  their  Cup  a  Round  or  two  before, 
And  one  by  one  crept  silently  to  rest. 

XXIII. 

And  we,  that  now  make  merry  in  the  Room 
They  left,  and  Summer  dresses  in  new  Bloom. 

Ourselves  must  we  beneath  the  Couch  of  Earth 
Descend,  ourselves  to  make  a  Couch  —  for  whom  ? 
ii 


clxii  Rubdiyât  of 

XXIV. 

I  sometimes  think  that  never  blows  so  red 
The  Rose  as  where  some  buried  Caesar  bled  ; 

That  every  Hyacinth  the  Garden  wears 
Dropt  in  her  Lap  from  some  once  lovely  Head. 


And  this  delightful  Herb  whose  living  Green 
Fledges  the  River's  Lip  on  which  we  lean  — 

Ah,  lean  upon  it  lightly  !  for  who  knows 
From  what  once  lovely  Lip  it  springs  unseen  ! 


Ah,  make  the    most  of  what  we  yet  may  spend, 
Before  we  too  into  the  Dust  descend  ; 

Dust  into  Dust,  and  under  Dust,  to  lie, 
Sans  Wine,  Sans  Song,  sans  Singer,  and  —  sans  End  ! 


Alike  for  those  who  for  To-day  prepare, 
And  those  that  after  some  To-morrow  stare, 

A  Muezzin  from  the  Tower  of  Darkness  cries, 
"  Fools  !  your  Reward  is  neither  Here  nor  There  !  " 

XXVIII. 

Another  Voice,  when  I  am  sleeping,  cries, 

"The    Flower   should   open    with    the    Morning   skies. 

And  a  retreating  Whisper,  as  1  wake  — 
"  The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies." 


Omar  Khayyam.  clxiii 


Why,  all  the  Saints  and  Sages  who  discuss'd 
Of  the  Two  Worlds  so  learnedly,  are  thrust 

Like  foolish  Prophets  forth  ;   their  Words  to  Scorn 
Are  scatter'd,  and  their  Mouths  are  stopt  with  Dust. 


Myself  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great  argument 

About  it  and  about  :   but  evermore 
Came  out  by  the  same  door  as  in  I  went. 

XXXI. 

With  them  the  seed  of  Wisdom  did  I  sow, 

And  with  mine  own  hand  wrought  to  make  it  grow 

And  this  was  all  the  Harvest  that  I  reap'd  — 
"  I  came  like  Water,  and  like  Wind  I  go." 

XXXII. 

Into  this  Universe,  and  Why  not  knowing, 
Nor  Whence,  like  Water  willy-nilly  flowing  : 

And  out  of  it,  as  Wind  along  the  Waste, 
I  know  not  Whither,  willy-nilly  blowing. 


What,  without  asking,  hither  hurried  Whence? 
And,  without  asking.  Whither  hurried  hence  ! 

Ah,  contrite  Heav'n  endowed  us  with  tin-  Vine 
To  drug  the  memory  of  that  insolence  ! 


clxiv  Rubâiydt  of 


Up  from  Earth's  Centre  through  the  Seventh  Gate 
I  rose,  and  on  the  Throne  of  Saturn  sate,13 
And  many  Knots  unravel'd  by  the  Road; 
But  not  the  Master-Knot  of  Human  Fate. 


There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no  Key: 
There  was  the  Veil  through  which  I  could  not  see: 

Some  little  talk  awhile  of  Me  and  Thee 
There  was  —  and  then  no  more  of  Thee  and  Me.14 

xxxvi. 

Earth  could  not  answer;  nor  the  Seas  that  mourn 
In  flowing  Purple,  of  their  Lord  forlorn; 

Nor  Heav'n,  with  those  eternal  Signs  reveal'd 
And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  Night  and  Morn. 


Then  of  the  Thee  in  Me  who  works  behind 
The  Veil  of  Universe  I  cried  to  find 

A  Lamp  to  guide  me  through  the  Darkness;  and 
Something  then  said  — ■  "  An  Understanding  blind." 


Then  to  the  Lip  of  this  poor  earthen  Urn 
I  lean'd,  the  secret  Well  of  Life  to  learn  : 

And  Lip  to  Lip  it  murmur'd  —  "  While  you  live, 
"  Drink  !  — Tor,  once  dead,  you  never  shall  return." 


Omar  Khayyam.  clxv 

xxxix. 

I  think  the  Vessel,  that  with  fugitive 
Articulation  answer'd,  once  did  live, 

And  drink;  and  that  impassive  Lip  I  kiss'd, 
How  many  Kisses  might  it  take  —  and  give  ! 


For  I  remember  stopping  by  the  way 

To  watch  a  Potter  thumping  his  wet  Clay  : 

And  with  its  all-obliterated  Tongue 
It  murmur'd  —  "  Gently,  Brother,  gently,  pray  !  " 

XLI. 

For  has  not  such  a  Story  from  of  Old 
Down  Man's  successive  generations  roll'd 

Of  such  a  clod  of  saturated  Earth 
Cast  by  the  Maker  into  Human  mould  ? 

XLir. 

And  not  a  drop  that  from  our  Cups  we  throw  15 
On  the  parcht  herbage  but  may  steal  below 

To  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  Eye 
There  hidden  —  far  beneath,  and  long  ago. 


As  then  the  Tulip  for  her  wonted  sup 
Of  Heavenly  Vintage  lifts  her  chalice  up, 

Do  you,  twin  offspring  of  the  soil,  till  Heav'n 
To  Earth  invert  you  like  an  empty  Cup. 


clxvi  Rubàiyàt  of 


XLIV. 


Do  you,  within  your  little  hour  of  Grace, 
The  waving  Cypress  in  your  Arms  enlace, 

Before  the  Mother  back  into  her  arms 
Fold,  and  dissolve  you  in  a  last  embrace. 


And  if  the  Cup  you  drink,  the  Lip  you  press, 
End  in  what  All  begins  and  ends  in  —  Yes  ; 

Imagine  then  you  are  what  heretofore 
You  -were  —  hereafter  you  shall  not  be  less. 

XL  VI. 

So  when  at  last  the  Angel  of  the  darker  drink  16 
Of  Darkness  finds  you  by  the  river-brink. 

And,  proffering  his  Cup,  invites  your  Soul 
Forth  to  your  Lips  to  quaff  it  —  do  not  shrink. 

XLVII. 

And  fear  not  lest  Existence  closing yotir 
Account,  should  lose,  or  know  the  type  no  more; 

The  Eternal  Sâki  from  that  Bowl  has  pour'd 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  us,  and  will  pour. 

XLVIII. 

When  You  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  past, 

Oh  but  the  long  long  while  the  World  shall  last, 

Which  of  our  Coming  and  Departure  heeds 
As  much  as  Ocean  of  a  pebble-cast. 


Omar  Khayyàm.  clxvii 

XLIX. 

One  Moment  in  Annihilation's  Waste, 
One  Moment,  of  the  Well  of  Life  to  taste  — 
The  Stars  are  setting,  and  the  Caravan  17 
Draws  to  the  Dawn  of  Nothing:  —  Oh  make  haste! 


L. 

Would  you  that  spangle  of  Existence  spend 
About  the  secret  —  quick  about  it,  Friend  ! 

A  Hair,  they  say,  divides  the  False  and  True  — 
And  upon  what,  prithee,  does  Life  depend  ? 


A  Hair,  they  say,  divides  the  False  and  True; 
Yes  ;  and  a  single  Alif  were  the  clue, 

Could  you  but  find  it,  to  the  Treasure-house, 
And  peradventure  to  The  Master  too  ; 

LII. 

Whose  secret  Presence,  through  Creation's  veins 
Running,  Quicksilver-like  eludes  your  pains  : 

Taking  all  shapes  from  Mäh  to  Mähi  ; 18  and 
They  change  and  perish  all  —  but  He  remains  ; 

LIU. 

A  moment  guess'd  —  then  back  behind  the  Fold 
Immerst  of  Darkness  round  the  Drama  roll'd 

Which,  for  the  Pastime  of  Eternity. 
He  doth  Himself  contrive,  enact,  behold. 


clxviii  Rubàiyàt  of 


LIV. 


But  if  in  vain,  clown  on  the  stubborn  floor 

Of  Earth,  and  up  to  Heav'n's  unopening  Door, 

You  gaze  To-day,  while  You  are  You  —  how  then 
To-morrow,  You  when  shall  be  You  no  more? 


LV. 


Oh,  plagued  no  more  with  Human  or  Divine, 
To-morrow's  tangle  to  itself  resign, 

And  lose  your  fingers  in  the  tresses  of 
The  Cypress-slender  Minister  of  Wine. 


Waste  not  your  Hour,  nor  in  the  vain  pursuit 
Of  This  and  That  endeavour  and  dispute  ; 
Better  be  merry  with  the  fruitful  Grape 
Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter,  Fruit. 


You  know,  my  Friends,  how  bravely  in  my  House 
For  a  new  Marriage  I  did  make  Carouse  : 

Divorced  old  barren  Reason  from  my  Bed, 
And  took  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  to  Spouse. 


For  "  Is  "  and  "Is-xot"  though  with  Rule  and  Line,19 
And  "  Up-and-down  "  by  Logic  I  define, 
Of  all  that  one  should  care  to  fathom,  I 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but  —  Wine. 


O/inii    Khayxàm. 


Ah,  but  my  Computations,  People  say, 

Have  squared  the  Year  to  human  compass,  eh  ? 

If  so,  by  striking  from  the  Calendar 
Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday. 

LX. 

And  lately,  by  the  Tavern  Door  agape, 

Came  shining  through  the  Dusk  an  Angel  Shape 

Bearing  a  Vessel  on  his  Shoulder  ;  and 
He  bid  me  taste  of  it  ;  and  'twas  —  the  Grape  ! 

LXI. 

The  Grape  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 

The  Two-and-Seventy  jarring  Sects  confute  :  20 

The  sovereign  Alchemist  that  in  a  trice 
Life's  leaden  metal  into  Gold  transmute  : 

LXII. 

The  mighty  Mahmud,  Allah-breathing  Lord, 
That  all  the  misbelieving  and  black  Horde  -1 
Of  fears  and  Sorrows  that  infest  the  Soul 
Scatters  before  him  with  his  whirlwind  Sword. 

LXIII. 

Why,  be  this  Juice  the  growth  of  God,  who  dare 
Blaspheme  the  twisted  tendril  as  a  Snare? 

A  Blessing,  we  should  use  it,  should  we  not? 
And  if  a  Curse  —  why,  then,  Who  set  it  there  ? 


clxx  Rubàiyât  of 


LXIV 


I  must  abjure  the  Balm  of  Life,  I  must, 
Scared  by  some  After-reckoning  ta'en  on  trust, 
Or  lured  with  Hope  of  some  Diviner  Drink, 
When  the  frail  Cup  is  crumbled  into  Dust! 


LXV, 


If  but  the  Vine  and  Love-abjuring  Band 
Are  in  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  stand, 

Alack,  I  doubt  the  Prophet's  Paradise 
Were  empty  as  the  hollow  of  one's  Hand. 


LXVI. 


Oh  threats  of  Hell  and  Hopes  of  Paradise  ! 
One  thing  at  least  is  certain  —  This  Life  flies 

One  thing  is  certain  and  the  rest  is  lies  ; 
The  Flower  that  once  is  blown  for  ever  dies. 


LXVII. 


Strange,  is  it  not  ?  that  of  the  myriads  who 
Before  us  pass'd  the  door  of  Darkness  through 

Not  one  returns  to  tell  us  of  the  Road, 
Which  to  discover  we  must  travel  too. 


The  Revelations  of  Devout  and  Learn'd 
Who  rose  before  us,  and  as  Prophets  burn'd, 

Are  all  but  Stories,  which,  awoke  from  Sleep 
They  told  their  fellows,  and  to  Sleep  return'd. 


Omar  Khayyâm.  clxxi 


I. XIX. 


Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside, 
And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Is't  not  a  shame  —  is't  not  a  shame  for  him 
So  long  in  this  Clay  suburb  to  abide  ? 


LXX. 


But  that  is  but  a  Tent  wherein  may  rest 
A  Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest  ; 
The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrash 
Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  guest. 


LXXI. 


I  sent  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible, 
Some  letter  of  that  After-life  to  spell  : 

And  after  many  days  my  Soul  return'd 
And  said,  "  Behold,  Myself  am  Heav'n  and  Hell 


Heav'n  but  the  Vision  of  fulfill'd  Desire, 
And  Hell  the  Shadow  of  a  Soul  on  fire, 

Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Ourselves, 
So  late  emerg'd  from,  shall  so  soon  expire. 

LXXIII. 

We  are  no  other  than  a  moving  row 
Of  visionary  Shapes  that  come  and  go 

Round  with  this  Sun-illumin'd  Lantern  held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show  ;  — 


clxxii  Rubàiyàt  of 


Impotent  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays 

Upon  this  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and  Days  ; 

Hither  and  thither  moves,  and  checks,  and  slays  ; 
And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  lays. 


The  Ball  no  Question  makes  of  Ayes  and  Noes, 
But  Right  or  Left  as  strikes  the  Player  goes  ; 

And  He  that  toss'd  you  down  into  the  Field, 
He  knows  about  it  all  —  he  knows  —  HE  knows  !  23 

LXXVI. 

The  Moving  Finger  writes;  and,  having  writ, 
Moves  on  :  nor  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit 

Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  Line, 
Nor  all  your  Tears  wash  out  a  Word  of  it. 

LXXVII. 

For  let  Philosopher  and  Doctor  preach 

Of  what  they  will,  and  what  they  will  not  —  each 

Is  but  one  Link  in  an  eternal  Chain 
That  none  can  slip,  nor  break,  nor  over-reach. 

LXXVIII. 

And  that  inverted  Bowl  we  call  The  Sky, 
Whereunder  crawling  coop'd  we  live  and  die, 

Lift  not  your  hands  to  It  for  help  —  for  It 
As  impotently  rolls  as  you  or  I. 


Omar  Khayydtn. 


LXXIX. 


With  Earth's  first  Clay  They  did  the  Last   Man  knead. 
And  there  of  the  Last  Harvest  sow'd  the  Seed  : 

And  the  first  Morning  of  Creation  wrote 
What  the  Last  Dawn  of  Reckoning  shall  read. 


Yesterday  This  Day's  Madness  did  prepare  ; 
To-morrow's  Silence,  Triumph,  or  Despair: 

Drink!  for  you  know  not  whence  you  came,  nor  why 
Drink  !  for  you  know  not  why  you  go,  nor  where. 


I  tell  you  this  —  When,  started  from  the  Goal, 
Over  the  flaming  shoulders  of  the  Foal 

Of  Heav'n  Parwfn  and  Mushtari  they  flung,24 
In  my  predestin'd  Plot  of  Dust  and  Soul 


The  Vine  had  struck  a  fibre:  which  about 
If  clings  my  Being  —  let  the  Dervish  flout  ; 

Of  my  Base  metal  may  be  filed  a  Key, 
That  shall  unlock  the  Door  he  howls  without. 


And  this  I  know  :  whether  the  one  True  Light, 
Kindle  to  Love,  or  Wrath-consume  me  quite, 
One  Flash  of  It  within  the  Tavern  caught 
Better  than  in  the  Temple  lost  outright. 


clxxiv  Rubàiyàt  of 


What  !  out  of  senseless  Nothing  to  provoke 
A  conscious  Something  to  resent  the  yoke 

Of  unpermitted  Pleasure,  under  pain 
Of  Everlasting  Penalties,  if  broke  ! 

LXXXV. 

What  !  from  his  helpless  Creature  be  repaid 
Pure  Gold  for  what  he  lent  us  dross-allay'd  — 

Sue  for  a  Debt  we  never  did  contract, 
And  cannot  answer  —  Oh  the  sorry  trade  ! 

LXXXVI. 

Nay,  but,  for  terror  of  his  wrathful  Face, 
I  swear  I  will  not  call  Injustice  grace  ; 

Not  one  Good  Fellow  of  the  Tavern  but 
Would  kick  so  poor  a  Coward  from  the  place. 


Oh  Thou,  who  didst  with  pitfall  and  with  gin 
Beset  the  Road  I  was  to  wander  in, 

Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestin'd  Evil  round 
Enmesh,  and  then  impute  my  Fall  to  Sin  ? 

LXXXVIII. 

Oh  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make, 
And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake  : 

For  all  the  Sin  the  Face  of  wretched  Man 
Is  black  with —  Man's  Forgiveness  give  —  and  take! 


Omar  Khayyam.  clxxv 


As  under  cover  of  departing  Day 
Slunk  hunger-stricken  Ramazân  away, 

Once  more  within  the  Potter's  house  alone 
I  stood,  surrounded  by  the  Shapes  of  Clay. 


And  once  again  there  gather'd  a  scarce  heard 
Whisper  among  them  ;  as  it  were,  the  stirr'd 
Ashes  of  some  all  but  extinguisht  Tongue, 
Which  mine  ear  kindled  into  living  Word. 

XCI. 

Said  one  among  them  —  "  Surely  not  in  vain, 

"  My  Substance  from  the  common  Earth  was  ta'en, 

"That  He  who  subtly  wrought  me  into  Shape 
"  Should  stamp  me  back  to  shapeless  Earth  again  ?  " 

XCII. 

Another  said,  "Why,  ne'er  a  peevish  Boy 

"Would  break  the  Cup  from  which  he  drank  in  Joy: 

"  Shall  He  that  of  his  own  free  Fancy  made 
"  The  Vessel,  in  an  after-rage  destroy  !  " 

XCIII. 

None  answer'd  this;  but  after  silence  spake 
Some  Vessel  of  a  more  ungainly  Make  ; 

"  They  sneer  at  me  for  leaning  all  awry  : 
"What  !  did  the  Hand  then  of  the  Potter  shake  ?  " 


clxxvi  Rubàiyat  of 

xciv. 

Thus  with  the  Dead  as  with  the  Living,  What? 
And  Why  ?  so  ready,  but  the  Where/or  not, 

One  on  a  sudden  peevishly  exclaim'd, 
'Which  is  the  Potter,  pray,  and  which  the  Pot?' 

xcv. 

Said  one  —  "  Folks  of  a  surly  Master  tell, 
"  And  daub  his  Visage  with  the  Smoke  of  Hell  ; 
"  They  talk  of  some  sharp  Trial  of  us  —  Pish  ! 
"  He's  a  good  Fellow,  and  'twill  all  be  well." 

xcvi. 

"  Well,"  said  another,  "  Whoso  will,  let  try, 
"  My  Clay  with  long  Oblivion  is  gone  dry  : 
"  But,  fill  me  with  the  old  familiar  Juice, 
"  Methinks  I  might  recover  by-and-bye." 

XCVII. 

So  while  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were  speaking, 
One  spied  the  little  Crescent  all  were  seeking  :  25 

And  then  they  jogg'd  each  other,  "  Brother  !    Brother  ! 
"  Now  for  the  Porter's  shoulder-knot  a-creakin^  "  ! 


XCVIII. 

Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  Life  provide, 
And  wash  the  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 

And  lay  me,  shrouded  in  the  living  Leaf, 
By  some  not  unfrequented  Garden-side. 


Omar  Khayyam. 

xcix. 

Whither  resorting  from  the  vernal  Heat 

Shall  Old  Acquaintance  Old  Acquaintance  greet, 

Under  the  Branch  that  leans  above  the  Wall 
To  shed  his  Blossom  over  head  and  feet. 


Then  ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  snare 
Of  Vintage  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air, 

As  not  a  True-believer  passing  by 
But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware. 


CI. 

Indeed  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 

Have  done  my  credit  in  Men's  eye  much  wrong: 

Have  drown'd  my  Glory  in  a  shallow  Cup, 
'And  sold  my  Reputation  for  a  Song. 

CIL 

Indeed,  indeed,  Repentance  oft  before 
I  swore  —  but  was  I  sober  when  I  swore? 

And  then  and  then  came  Spring,  and   Rose-in-hand 
My  thread-bare  Penitence  apieces  tore. 


And  much  as  Wine  has  play'd  the  Infidel, 
And  robb'd  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour —  Well, 

I  often  wonder  what  the  Vintners  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  ware  they  sell. 

12 


clxxviii  Rubâiyât  of 


Yet  Ah,  that  Spring  should  vanish  with  the  Rose! 
That   Youth's  sweet-scented   manuscript   should   close 

The  Nightingale  that  in  the  branches  sang, 
Ah  whence,  and  whither  flown  again,  who  knows  ! 


cv. 

Would  but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain  yield 
One  glimpse  —  if  dimly,  yet  indeed,  reveal'd, 

Toward  which  the  fainting  Traveller  might   spring, 
As  springs  the  trampled  herbage  of  the  field  ! 


Oh  if  the  World  were  but  to  re-create, 

That  we  might  catch  ere  closed  the  Book  of  Fate, 

And  make  The  Writer  on  a  fairer  leaf 
Inscribe  our  names,  or  quite  obliterate  ! 

evil. 

Better,  oh  better,  cancel  from  the  Scroll 
Of  Universe  one  luckless  Human  Soul, 

Than  drop  by  drop  enlarge  the  Flood  that  rolls 
Hoarser  with  Anguish  as  the  Ages  roll. 

cvin. 

Ah  Love  !  could  you  and  I  with  Fate  conspire 
To  grasp  this  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire, 
Would  not  we  shatter  it  to  bits  —  and  then 
Re-mould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  Desire  ! 


Omar  Khayyâm.  clxxix 


cix. 


But  see  !  The  rising  Moon  of  Heav'n  again 

Looks  for  us,  Sweet-heart,  through  the  quivering  Plane 

How  oft  hereafter  rising  will  she  look 
Among  those  leaves  —  for  one  of  us  in  vain  ! 


ex. 


And  when  Yourself  with  silver  Foot  shall  pass 
Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter'd  on  the  Grass, 

And  in  your  joyous  errand  reach  the  spot 
Where  I  made  One  —  turn  down  an  empty  Glass! 


TAMÄM. 


COMPARATIVE    VERSIONS 


RUBAI YAT 


OMAR    KHAYYAM, 


Translations  of  FitzGerald,  Nicolas,  McCarthy,  Kerney, 

Whinfield,  Garner,  Bodenstedt,  and 

Graf  von  Schack. 


RUBAIYAT 


OF 


OMAR    KHAYYAM    OF    NAISHAPUR. 


FitzGerald     Wake  !  For  the  Sun  who  scattered  into  flight 
(I.)  The  Stars  before  him  from  the  Field  of  Night, 

1889  Drives   Night  along  with   them  from  J/eav'n, 

and  strikes 
The  Sultâiis  Turret  with  a  Shaft  of  Light. 

(I.)  Awake  !  for  Morning  in  the  Bowl  of  Night 

,859  Has  flung  the  Stone  that  puts  the  Stars  to  Flight  :  1 

And  Lo  !  the  Hunter  of  the  East  has  caught 
The  Sultan's  Turret  in  a  Noose  of  Light. 


(I)  Wake  !  for  the  Sun  behind  yon  Eastern  height 

186S  Has  chased  the  Session  of  the  Stars  from  Night 

And,  to  the  field  of  Heav'n  ascending,  strikes 
The  Sultan's  Turret  with  a  Shaft  of  Light. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


The  Sun  doth  smite  the  roofs  with  Orient  ray, 
And.  Khosrau  like,  his  wine-red  sheen  display  ; 

Arise,  and  drink  !    the  herald  of  the  dawn 
Uplifts  his  voice,  and  cries,  "  O  drink  to-day!" 


Whinfield 
(*33) 


The  Sun  has  cast  about  the  city  towers  Garner 

A  noose  of  light;  Kai-Kosru-like,  he  showers  Ms.  18 ,-, 

His  wine  in  Morning's  cup,  —  but  hark  !  a  voice 
Cries  out  and  bids  us  seize  the  transient  hours  ! 


The  sun  has  cast  on  wall  and  roof  his  net  of  burn- 
ing light, 

The    lordly  day  fills  high    the  cup    to    speed    the 
parting  night. 
"  Wake  !  "  cries   in  silver  accents  the  herafd  of 
the  dawn  ; 

"  Arise  and  drink!  the  darkness  flies  —  the  morn- 
ins:  rises  bright." 


#(■) 
1S87 


"  Flinging  a  Stone  into  the  Cup  was  the  signal  for  '  To 
Horse!'  in  the  Desert."  Or,  to  use  FitzGerakl's  own  words 
in  explanation  of  the  passage  in  the  "  Salâmân  and  Absâl  "  — 
That  cup  of  Happiness  and  Tears 
In  which  Farewell  has  never  yet  beenflnng — 
"  A  pebble  flung  into  a  Cup  "  was  "a  signal  for  a  company  to 
break  up."  In  FitzGerakl's  first  draught  of  Edition  III  the 
first  and  second  lines  read  :  — 

Wake  !  for  the  Sun  before  him  into  Night 
A  Signal  /hint;  that  put  the  Stars  to  flight. 
In  Whinfield,  74  (1S82),  Khosru-like  .  .  .  drink,  and  the  last 
line  reads  :  — 

Proclaims  the  advent  of  another  day. 


Rubdiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 


FitzGerald     Before  the  phantom  of  False  morning  died, 
(II)  Me  thought  a  Voice  within  the  Tavern  cried, 

1889  *t  When  all  the  Temple  is  prepared  with in, 

"  Why  nods  the  drowsy  Worshipper  outside  ?  " 

(II.)  Dreaming  when  Dawn's  Left  Hand  was  in  the  Sky2 

1859  I  heard  a  Voice  within  the  Tavern  cry, 

"  Awake,  my  Little  ones,  and  fill  the  Cup 
"  Before  Life's  Liquor  in  its  Cup  be  dry." 

Nicolas  Un  matin,  j'entendis  venir  de  notre  taverne  une 

(0  voix  qui  disait  :      À  moi,  joyeux    buveurs,  jeunes 

1867  fous  !  levez-vous,  et  venez  remplir  encore  une  coupe 

de   vin,  avant  que    le  destin   vienne  remplir  celle 

de  votre  existence. 

McCarthy  There  came  a  voice  at  dawning  from  the  wine- 

(183)  shop,  crying,    "Arise,  ye   haunters  of   the  tavern- 

1879  divan,  arise,  and  fill  the  cannikin  before  Fate  comes 

to  fill  the  cup  of  your  being. 

M.  K.        Out  from  our  inn,  one  morn,  a  voice  came  roaring, 

188S  —  "  Up  ! 

Sots,     scamps,     and    madmen  !     quit    your    heavy 
snoring  !     Up  ! 
Come,  pour  we  out  a  measure  full  of  wine,  and 
drink  ! 
Ere    yet    the    measure's    brimmed    for    us    they're 
pouring  up." 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam, 


At  dawn  a  cry  through  all  the  tavern  shrilled, 
"  Arise  my  brethren  of  the  revellers'  guild, 

That  I  may  fill  our  measures  full  of  wine. 
Or  e'er  the  measure  of  our  days  be  filled."' 

One  Morn  while  sitting  by  the  Tavern's  Door 
I  heard  a  Voice  in  Accents  Mild  Implore 

"  Come,  fill  another  Cup  with  Sparkling  Wine, 
Make  Haste,  the  Cup  of  Lilt-  will  soon  run  o'er.'1 

The  rosy  dawn  shines  through  the  tavern  door 
And  cries,  "Wake  !  slumbering  reveller  and  pour  ! 

For  ere  my  sands  of  life  be  all  run  out, 
I  fain  would  fill  my  jars  with  wine  once  more." 

Eine    Stimme   scholl    Morgens  zu  mir  aus  der 
Schenke  : 

Steh  auf,  närr'scher  Schwärmer,  Dein   Ikil  be- 
denke — 
Füll',  ehe  das   Mass  unsres  Schicksals  gelullt 
ist, 

Ilei  uns  noch  das  Mass  mit  edlem  Getränke  ! 


Whinfield 

(-) 


Garner 
(I-  J4) 


#(2) 
1S87 


Bodenstedt 

(IX.  34) 
1881 


Heut  Morgen  erscholl  ein  Ruf  aus  der  Schenke  :  v°n  Schuck 
•■  (  )  Volk  der  Zecher,  meiner  gedenke  !  (*39) 

Auf  !  auf  !  mit  Weine  das  Glas  gefüllt,  ,878 

Bevor  das  Geschik  das  Mass  euch  füllt  !  " 


See  Appendix  I. 


6  Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald    And,  as  the  Cock  crew,  those  who  stood  before 
(HI-)         The  Tavern  shouted —  "  Open  then  the  Door  ! 
l889  "  You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to  stay, 

"And,  once  departed,  may  return  no  more." 


(ni)         And,  as  the  Cock  crew,  those  who  stood  before 
l859         The  Tavern  shouted  —  "  Open  then  the  Door  ! 
You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to  stay, 
And,  once  departed,  may  return  no  more." 


Nicolas 
(426) 


Sais-tu  pourquoi  au  lever  de  l'aurore  le  coq 
matinal  fait  à  chaque  instant  entendre  sa  voix  ? 
C'est  pour  te  rappeler,  par  le  miroir  du  matin, 
qu'une  nuit  vient  de  s'écouler  de  ton  existence, 
et  que  tu  es  encore  dans  l'ignorance. 


McCarthy 
(419) 


Know  you  why  at  the  hour  of  the  dawning  the 
cock  shrills  his  frequent  clarion?  It  is  but  to 
remind  you  by  the  mirror  of  morning,  that  from 
your  existence  a  night  has  slipped,  and  you  are 
still  ignorant. 


Whinfleld      When  dawn  doth  silver  the  dark  firmament, 
(463)         Why  shrills  the  bird  of  dawning  his  lament? 
It  is  to  show  in  dawn's  bright  looking-glass 
How  of  thy  careless  life  a  night  is  spent. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  7 

The  Herald  of  the  Morn,  in  lusty  tone,  Garner 

Loud  greets  the  Dawn  upon  her  Golden  Throne,  (I'  !) 

Again  proclaiming  to  a  Slumbering  World, 
Another  Night  beyond  recall  has  flown. 

Weisst  Du,  warum  so  beständig  der  Halm  Bodenstedt 

Seine  Stimme  erhebt  bei  des  Morgens  Nahn  ?  ^x-  '' 

Er    kräht,    dass    schon    wieder    die    Nacht    ent- 
schwindet 
Und  der  kommende  Tag  Dich  nicht  klüger  findet. 

Wisst  ihr,  warum  der  Hahn  im  Hof  am  Morgen  Von  Schack 
jedes  Tages  kräht?  (22+) 

Ich   will    euch   deuten    seinen    Ruf,  dass    ihr    ihn 
rechten  Sinn's  versteht. 

Er  sagt,  dass  wieder  eine  Nacht  des  Lebens  euch 
verstrichen  ist 

Und  dass  ihr  immer  noch  nichts  wisst. 

See  Appendix  I. 


8  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

Fitz  Gerald    Now  the  New  Year  3  reviving  old  Desires, 
(iv.)  'fne  thoughtful  Soul  to  Solitude  retires, 

,889  Where  the   White   Hand  of   Moses  on   the 

1859  D       / 

Bough 

Puts  out,*  and  Jesus  from  the  ground  suspires. 


Nicolas 
(186) 


Voici  le  moment  où  de  verdure  va  s'orner  le 
monde,  où,  semblables  à  la  main  de  Moïse,  les 
bourgeons  vont  se  montrer  aux  branches  ;  où, 
comme  ravivées  par  le  souffle  de  Jésus  les  plantes 
vont  sortir  de  terre;  où  enfin  les  nuages  vont 
ouvrir  les  yeux  pour  pleurer. 


McCarthy  Behold,    the    time    is   come,   when    the   earth  is 

(9O  about  to  clothe    itself  in  verdure,  when    the  blos- 

soms breaking  forth  over  the  branches,  make  them 
become  as  the  hand  of  Moses,  when,  as  if  quick- 
ened by  the  breath  of  Jesus,  the  plants  spring  from 
the  earth,  when  at  last  the  clouds  open  their  eyes 
to  weep. 


Whinfield      Now  is  the  time  earth  decks  her  greenest  bowers, 
(201)  And   trees,   like    Musa's    hand,   grow   white   with 

flowers  ! 
As  'twere  at  'Isa's  breath  the  plants  revive, 
While    clouds    brim    o'er,   like    tearful    eyes,   with 
showers. 


Rubàiyàt  oj   Unna   Khayyâm.  9 

Snow  white,  like    Musts'  hand,  the  Branches  grow,   Garner 
While  Clouds  rain  Tears  upon  the  Earth  below,  (I.  14) 

The  opening  buds  revived  by  Jesus'  breath, 
Upon  the  air  their  Subtile  Fragrance  throw. 

Dies  ist  die  Zeit,  wo  die  Welt  sich  schmückt  mit  Bodenstedt 
Grün,  (  vi.  1) 

Wo,  wie  Mosis   Hand,  alle   Zweige  von    Knospen 
glühn, 

Wo   die    Pflanzen    sprossen    wie    von    Jesu    Odem 
belebt 

Und  die  Wolke  weinend  sich  selbst  begräbt! 

Compare  Whinfield,  1 16  :  — 

Nnv  spring-tide  showers  Us  foison  on  the  land, 
And  lively  heurts  wend  forth,  a  joyous  band, 

For  ''has  breath  wakes  the  dead  earth  to  life, 
And  trees  gleam  white  with  flowers,  like  M/tsa'  s  hand. 

The  Inst  line  of  Whinfield,  109  (18S2),  reads  :  — 

Now  spring  with  boscage  green  the  earth  embowers. 

See  also  Appendix  II. 


io  Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 

FitzGerald     Iram  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Rose, 

(v>  And  Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd  Cup  where  no  one 

l889  knows; 

But  still  a  Ruby  kindles  in  the  Vine, 
And  many  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 

(V.)  Irâm  indeed  is  gone  with  all  its  Rose,5 

1859  And   Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd    Cup   where   no   one 

knows  ; 
But  still  the  Vine  her  ancient  Ruby  yields, 
And  still  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 

(V.)  Iram  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Rose, 

1868  And   Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd    Cup   where    no   one 

knows  ; 
But  still  a  Ruby  gushes  from  the  Vine, 
And  many  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 


Rul'âiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  1 1 

See  !  from  the  world  what  profit  have  I  gained  ?       Whinfield 
What  fruitage  of  my  life  in  hand  retained  ?  ('33) 

What  use  is  Jamshed's  goblet,  once  't  is  crushed  ? 
What   pleasure's    torch,  when   once   its   light  has 
waned  ? 


FitzGerald's  note  (4):  "  Irani,  planted  by  King  Shaddad, 
and  now  sunk  somewhere  in  the  Sands  of  Arabia,  (amshyd's 
Seven-ring'd  Cup  was  typical  of  the  7  Heavens,  7  Planets, 
7  Seas  &c,  and  was  a  Divining  Cup.'1'1  See  also  Appen- 
dix III. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khaxyàm. 


FitzGerald     .hid  David's  lips  are  lockt  ;  but  in  divine 

(VI  )         High-piping  Pehlevi,  with  "  Wine!  Wine!  Wine! 

1889  "Red  Wine!'" — the  Nightingale  cries  to  the  Rose 

That  sallow  cheek  of  hers  to'  incarnadine. 

(VI.)  And  David's  Lips  are  lock't  ;  but  in  divine 

1859  High-piping  Péhlevi6  with  "  Wine  !  Wine!  Wine! 

" Red  Wine!''  —  the   Nightingale  cries    to   the 
Rose 
That  yellow  Cheek7  of  her's  to'incarnadine. 

Nicolas  Aujourd'hui,    le    temps  est  agréable:    il  ne  fait 

(I53)  ni  chaud,  ni  froid.     Les  nuages  lavent  la  poussière 

qui  s'est  assise  sur  les  roses,  et  le  rossignol  semble 
crier  aux  fleurs  jaunes  qu'il  faut  boire  du  vin. 

McCarthy  To-day,  the  weather  is  pleasant,  it  is  neither  hot 

(247)  nor  cold.     The  dew  washes  the  dust  from  the  face 

of   the    roses,    and    the    nightingale    crieth    to   the 
yellow  flowers,  saying,  "  Ye  must  drink  wine." 

Whinfield      To-day  how  sweetly  breathes  the  temperate  air, 
(,74)  The  rains  have  newly  laved  the  parched  parterre  ; 

(94,  1882)  And  Bulbuls  cry  in  notes  of  ecstasy, 

"  Thou,  too,  O  pallid  rose,  our  wine  must  share  !  " 

Garner  The  Flowers  upon  the  breeze  their  fragrance  fling, 

(t  3)  The  Bulbul's  notes  within  the  thicket  ring, 

Ah  come  recline  beneath  the  Rose-tree's  shade, — 
The    Rose    that   once   has    blown   must   die   with 
Spring. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  13 

Weder  heiss  noch  kalt  ist's  heute,  ein  prächtiges    Bodenstedt 
Wetter:  (VIII.  23) 

Frisch    vom    Regen    gewaschen   prangen     Rosen- 
kelche und  Blätter 

Und  die  Natchtigall  scheint  zu  den  gelben  Blumen 
zu  singen  : 

Lasset  auch  Ihr  von  dem  himmlischen  Nass  Euch 
belebend  durchdringen. 

Wie  schön  ist  die  Erde  nun  wieder  überall  !  Von  Schack 

Die  Winde  waschen  den  Staub  von  den  Rosen  <284> 

und  Nelken, 
Und  zu  den  ermatteten  spricht  die  Nachtigall  : 
"  Erquickt   Euch  nun  durch  meinen  Trank,  ihr 
welken  !  " 


Yellow  being  the  mourning  color  in  the  East,  the  Night- 
ingale addresses  the  flowers  of  this  hue  and  consoles  them  for 
the  sadness. 

FitzGerald  says  (5):  "  Pehlevi,  the  old  Heroic  Sanskrit  of 
Persia.  Häfiz  also  speaks  of  the  Nightingale's  Pchlcvi,  which 
did  not  change  with  the  People's. 

(6)  "  I  am  not  sure  if  the  fourth  line  refers  to  the  Red  Rose 
looking  sickly,  or  to  the  Yellow  Rose  that  ought  to  be  Red  ; 
Red,  White,  and  Yellow  Roses  all  common  in  Persia.  I 
think  that  Sotithey  in  his  Common-Place  Book,  quotes  from 
some  Spanish  author  about  the  Rose  being  White  till  10 
o'clock  ;  •  Rosa  Perfecta  '  at  2;  and  '  perfecta  incarnada  '  at  5." 


13 


FitzGerald 
(VII.) 


14 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 


Come,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  fire  of  Spring 
Your  Winter-garment  of  Repentance  fling  : 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter  —  and  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing. 


(VII.)         Come,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  Fire  of  Spring 
•859  The  Winter  Garment  of  Repentance  fling: 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  fly  —  and  Lo  !  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing. 

Nicolas  Un  rossignol,  ivre  (d'amour  pour  la  rose)  étant 

(79)  entré  dans  le  jardin,  et  voyant  les  roses  et  la  coupe 

de  vin  souriantes,  vint  me  dire  à  l'oreille,  dans  un 
langage  approprié  à  la  circonstance  :  Sois  sur  tes 
gardes,  ami,  (et  n'oublie  pas)  qu'on  ne  rattrape  pas 
la  vie  qui  s'est  écoulée. 

McCarthy  A  love-lorn  nightingale,  straying  into  a  garden, 

(l67)  and  beholding  the  roses  smiling,  and  the  cup  filled 

with  wine,  flew  to  my  ear  and  sang,  "  Be  advised 
friend,  there  is  no  recalling  the  vanished  life." 


Whinfield      The  Bulbul  to  the  garden  winged  his  way, 
(81)  Viewed  lily  cups,  and  roses  smiling  gay, 

Cried  in  ecstatic  notes,  "  O  live  your  life, 
You  never  will  re-live  this  fleeting  day." 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  15 

Eine  Nachtigall,  die  trunken  zum  Garten  flog,  Bodenstedt 

Wo  ein  Rosenkelch  über  den  anderen  sich  bog,  (x-  •»> 

Raunte  in's  Ohr  mir  :  Erfasse  das  Glück 
Des  Lebens  im  Fluge:  es  kommt  nicht  zurück. 

Als  eine  Nachtigall  im  Gartenhain 

Die  Rosen  schaute  und  den  Becher  Wein,  Von  Schack 

Sprach  sie  zu  mir:  "  Versäumst  du  diese  Zeit,  (2'4> 

O  Freund,  so  holst  du  nie  sie  wieder  ein." 

l  See  also  Rubd'iy  XCVI. 


1 6  Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

PitzGerald     Whether  at  Naishâpûr  or  Babylon, 

(Viil.)         Whether  the  Cup  with  sweet  or  bitter  run, 
1889  The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop  by  drop, 

The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  one. 


Nicolas 
(105) 


Puisque  la  vie  s'écoule,  qu'importe  qu'elle  soit 
douce  ou  arrière  ?  Puisque  l'âme  doit  passer  par 
nos  lèvres,  qu'importe  que  ce  soit  à  Nichapour 
ou  à  Bèlkh  ?  Bois  donc  du  vin,  car  après  toi  et 
moi,  la  lune  bien  longtemps  encore  passera  de  son 
dernier  quartier  à  son  premier,  et  de  son  premier 
à  son  dernier. 


McCarthy  Since   life  flies,  what  matters  it  whether   it   be 

(14S)  sweet  or  bitter?  Since  our  soul  must  escape 
through  our  lips,  what  matters  it  whether  it  be  at 
Naishapur  or  Babylon  ?  Drink,  then,  for  after 
thou  and  I  are  dust,  the  moon  will  for  many  days 
pass  from  her  last  to  her  first  quarter,  and  from 
her  first  to  her  last. 


M.  K.  Since,  bitter  or  sweet,  Life  ends  so  soon,  why  care, 

Love  ? 
When   the   soul    from    the    lip   takes   flight,    what 
matters  it  Where,  Love? 
Quaff  wine  !  —  yon  Moon  that  waxes  and  wanes 
unceasing, 
When  you  and  I  are  gone,  will  still  be  there,  Love  ! 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  i  ; 

When  life  is  spent,  what  's  Balkh  or  Nishapore?       Whinfield 
What  sweet  or  bitter,  when  the  cup  runs  o'er  ?  (,34) 

Come  drink  !    full  many  a    moon    will  wax  and 
wane 
In  times  to  come,  when  we  are  here  no  more. 

Our  Life  will  end,  it  flies  on  foot  amain,  c.irner 

What  boots  it  whether  passed  in  joy  or  pain  d.  2I) 

At  Balkh  or  Naishapiir.     Come,  rill  your  Cup, 
We  die,  —  but  still  the  Moon  will  wax  and  wane. 

What  reck  we  that  our  sands  are  run  out  in  Balkh  ^  (6) 

or  Babylon, 
Or  bitter  be  the    draught   or  sweet,  so   once    the 

draught  is  done. 
Drink  then  thy  wine  with  me,  for   many  a  silver 

moon 
Shall  wane  and  wax,  for  many  a  silver  moon 
Shall  wane  and  wax  when  thou  and  I  are  gone. 

Da  die  Tage  uns'res  Lebens  rasch  und  unaufhalt-  "Von  Schack 

sam  schwinden,  (6) 

Da,    ob    morgen     noch    wir   athmen,    Keiner     uns 

vermag  zu  künden, 
Lass,  o  du  mein  Mond,  uns  froh  sein  !  Ach  der 

Mond  da  droben  wird 
Oft  noch  um  die  Erde  kreisen,  ohne  uns  auf  ihr 

zu  finden  ! 

Whinfield,  73  (1S82),  reads:  — 

When  life  is  spent,  who  recks  of  joy  or  pain  ? 
Or  cares  in  Naishapiir  and  Balkh  lo  reign  ' 

Come,  quaff  your  wine,  for  after  ice  are  cone, 
Moons  w 'ill  still  wane  and  wax,  and  wax  and  wane. 


1 8  Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     Each  Morn  a  thousand  Roses  brings,  you  say; 
(IX.)  Yes,  but  where  leaves  the  Rose  of  Yesterday  ? 

1S89  ^tui  tjtis  ßrs[  Sum  nier  month  that  brings  the 

Rose 
Shall  take  Jamshyd  and  KaikobAd away. 


(Vlll.)        And  look  — a  thousand  Blossoms  with  the  Day 
lS59  Woke  —  and  a  thousand  scatter'd  into  Clay  : 

And   this  first  Summer  Month  that  brings   the 
Rose 
Shall  take  Jamshyd  and  Kaikobâd  away. 


Nicolas  Regarde   comme  le  zéphyr   a  fait  épanouir   les 

(370)  roses  !  Regarde  comme  leur  éclatante  beauté 
réjouit  le  rossignol  !  Va  donc  te  reposer  à 
l'ombre  de  ces  fleurs,  va,  car  bien  souvent  elles 
sont  sorties  de  terre  et  bien  souvent  elles  y  sont 
rentrées. 


McCarthy  Behold   in  the  zephyr  the  robe  of  the  rose  ex- 

(463)  panding,  the  nightingale  delighting  in  the  beauty 

of  the  rose  ;    sit  in  the  shade  of  the  rose,  for  many 

times   this    rose  from    earth  has   come,    and   unto 

earth  has  gone. 


Rubàiyàt  of  O/na/-  Khayyàm. 


l9 


See   how  the    zephyr  tears  the   scarf  of   the  rose    M.  K. 

away  ; 
The  rose's  beauty  charms  the  bulbul's  woes  away  ! 
Go,  sit  in  the  shade  of  the  rose,  for  every  rose 
That  springs  from  the  earth,  again  to  earth  soon 
goes  away  ! 


Bulbuls,  doting  on  roses,  oft  complain 
How  froward  breezes  rend  their  veils  in  twain  ; 
Sit  we  beneath  this  rose,  which  many  a  time 
Has  sunk  to  earth,  and  sprung  from  earth  again. 


Whinfield 

(414) 


Sieh,  wie  der  Lenzhauch  die  Rosen  erneut, 
Sieh,  wie  ihre  Schönheit  die  Nachtigall  freut! 
Freu'  Dich  auch,  sitz'  unter  den  Rosen  nieder 
So  oft  sie  erblühten,  verblühten  sie  wieder. 


Bodenstedt 
(VI.  15) 


Sieh,  wie  der    Rosen    Knospenkleid  zerrissen  hat    Von  Schack 
der  Morgenwind  !  (82) 

Horch  wie,  von  ihrem  Reiz  entzückt,  die  Nachti- 
gall ihr  Lied  beginnt  ! 
Ruh'  zwischen    diesen    Rosen  denn,    und   denk, 
wie  oft  dem  Erdenschoss 

Sie  schön  entstiegen  und  dann  neu  in  ihn  hinab- 
gesunken sind. 


See  Appendix  IV  for  further  comparisons. 

See  Appendix  III  for  further  mention  of  Jamshyd. 


20 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     Well,  let  it  take  tliem  !     What  have  we  to  do 
(X.)  With  Kaikobâd  the  Great,  or  Kaikhosrû  ? 

1889  j^ef  £âl  and  Rustum  bluster  as  they  will, 

Or  Hâtiin  call  to  Supper  —  heed  not  you. 

(IX.)         But  come  with  old  Khayyâm,  and  leave  the  Lot 
,s59  Of  Kaikobâd  and  Kaikhosru  forgot  : 

Let  Rustum  lay  about  him  as  he  will,8 
Or  Hâtim  Tai  cry  Supper  —  heed  them  not. 

(X.)  Well,  let  it  take  them  !  what  have  we  to  do 

1868  With  Kaikobâd  the  Great  of  Kaikhosni  ? 

Let  Rustum  cry  "  To  Battle  !  "  as  he  likes,7 
Or  Hâtim  Tai  "  To  Supper!  "  —  heed  not  you. 

Nicolas  Tant  que  tu  auras  en  ton  corps  des  os,  des  veines 

(416)  et  des  nerfs,  ne  pose  pas  ton  pied  en  dehors  des 

limites  de  ta  destinée.  Ne  cède  jamais  à  ton 
ennemi,  cet  ennemi  fût-il  Rostèm,  fils  de  Zal  ; 
n'accepte  rien  qui  puisse  t'obliger  envers  ton  ami, 
cet  ami  fût-il  Hâtèm-taï. 


McCarthy  While    still  you  boast  of  bones,  and  veins  and 

(390)         sinews,  abide  in  the  circle  of  your  destiny.     Yield 

nothing  to  your   enemy,  were  he  Rustem,    son  of 

Zal  ;    be    under   no   bond    of   obligation     to    your 

friend,  were  he  Hatim  Tai. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  2 1 

So  long  as  thy  frame  of  flesh  and  of  bone  shall  be,  M.  K. 
Stir  not  one  step  outside  Fate's  hostelry;  — 

Bow   to   no   foe  —  e'en    Kustum    or   Zâl  —  thy 
neck, 
Take  from  no  friend  a  gift,  though  Hatim  he  ! 

While  thou  dost  wear  this  fleshly  livery,  Whinfield 

Step  not  beyond  the  bounds  of  destiny;  (455) 

Bear  up,  though  very  Rustams  be  thy  foes, 
And  crave  no  boon  from  friends  like  Hatim  Tai. 

Solang  Du  Knochen  hast,  Nerven  und  Adern  im   Bodenstedt 
Leibe.  (V.  38) 

Immer  standhaft  im  Haus  Deines  Schicksals  ver- 
bleibe. 

Weich'  keinem  Feind,  ob  es  Rüstern  selber  sei, 

Nimm    von   keinem     Freunde,     und    war'    dieser 
Hatem-tai. 

FitzGerald,  Edition  III,  1S79,  line  3,  reads  :  — 

Let  Zâl  and  Rustum  thunder  as  they  will. 
In  Whinfield,  235  (1SS2)  :  — 
Whilst  thou  dost  wear  .   .   .  though  puissant  Rust  am  be  thy 

foe 
And  crave  no  guerdon  e'en  from  Hatim  Tai. 

FitzGerald  says  (7)  :  — 

"Rustum,  the  'Hercules'  of  Persia,  and  Zâl  his  Father, 
whose  exploits  are  among  the  most  celebrated  in  the  Shâh- 
nima.    Hatim-Tai,  a  well-known  type  of  Oriental  Generosity." 

See  also  Appendix  III  to  Rubâ'iy  V;  Appendix  IV  to 
Rubâ'iy  IX. 


22  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     With  me  along  the  strip  of  Herbage  strown 
(XI.)  That  just  divides  the  desert  from  the  sown, 

l88  Where  name  of  Slave  and  Sultan  is  forgot  — 

And  Peace  to  Mahmud  on  his  golden  Throne  ! 

(X.)  With  me  along  some  Strip  of  Herbage  strown 

1859  That  just  divides  the  desert  from  the  sown, 

Where   name   of    Slave   and    Sultan  scarce 
known, 
And  pity  Sultan  Màhmud  on  his  Throne. 


Nicolas 

(413) 


McCarthy 
(449) 


M.  K. 


Ce  que  je  demande  c'est  un  flacon  de  vin  en 
rubis,  une  œuvre  de  poésie,  un  instant  de  répit 
dans  la  vie  et  la  moitié  d'un  pain.  Si  avec  cela 
je  pouvais,  ami,  demeurer  près  de  toi,  dans  quelque 
lieu  en  ruine,  ce  serait  un  bonheur  préférable  à 
celui  d'un  sultan  dans  son  royaume. 

Give  me  a  flagon  of  red  wine,  a  book  of  verses, 
a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  little  idleness.  If  with  such 
store  I  might  sit  by  thy  dear  side  in  some  lonely 
place,  I  should  deem  myself  happier  than  a  king 
in  his  kingdom. 

A    flask  of  red  wine,    and  a  volume   of   song,  to- 
gether — 

Half  a  loaf,  —  just  enough  the  ravage  of  Want  to 
tether  : 
Such  is  my  wish  — then,  thou  in  the  waste  with 
me  — 

Oh  !    sweeter  were    this  than    a  monarch's    crown 
and  feather  ! 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

Give  me  a  skin  of  wine,  a  crust  of  bread, 
A  pittance  bare,  a  book  of  verse  to  read; 

With  thee,  O  love,  to  share  my  lowly  roof, 
I  would  not  take  the  Sultan's  realm  instead  ! 


Whinfield 
(452) 


A  Flask  of  Wine,  a  book,  a  Loaf  of  Bread, — 
To  every  Care  and  Worldly  Sorrow  dead, 

I  covet  not,  when  thou,  oh  Love,  art  near, 
The  Jeweled  Crown  upon  the  Sultan's  Head. 


Garner 
(1.8) 


Wein.  Brot,  ein  gutes  Buch  der  Lieder:  Bodenstedt 

Liess  ich  damit  selbst  unter  Trümmern  mich  nieder,        (X.  16) 
Den  Menschen  fern,  bei  Dir  allein, 
Würd'  ich  glücklicher  als  ein  König  sein. 

Eine  Flasche    roten  Weines  und  ein  Büchlein  mit   Von  Schack 

Gedichten  (125) 

Und  die  Hälfte  eines  Brodes,  Andres  wünsch'  ich 

mir  mit  nichten  ; 
Dann   nur   irgend    eine  Wüste,  um  mit  Dir  darin 

zu  wohnen, 
Und   beneiden   will    ich  fürder   keinen    Herrscher 

von  Millionen. 


In  Whinfield,  234  (1882),  read,  (1)  a  flask  of  wine,  (2)  a 
quiet  mind,  (3)  the  Sultan'' s  crown. 

For  further  illustration  of  Ruba'iy  XI,  see  Appendix  V. 


24 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald 

(XII.) 

1889 


(XI.) 


.-/  Book  of  Verses  underneath  the  Bough, 

A  fug  of  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread  —  and  Thou 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness  — 
Oh,  Wilderness  were  Paradise  enow  ! 

Here  with  a  Loaf  of  Bread  beneath  the  Bough, 
A  Flask  of  Wine,  a  Book  of  Verse  —  and  Thou 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness  — 
And  Wilderness  is  Paradise  enow. 


Nicolas 

(82) 


McCarthy 

(177) 


Au  printemps  j'aime  à  m'asseoir  au  bord  d'une 
prairie,  avec  une  idole  semblable  à  une  houri  et 
une  cruche  de  vin,  s'il  y  en  a,  et  bien  que  tout  cela 
soit  généralement  blâmé,  je  veux  être  pire  qu'un 
chien  si  jamais  je  songe  au  paradis. 

In  Spring  time  I  love  to  sit  in  the  meadow  with 
a  paramour  perfect  as  a  Houri  and  a  goodly  jar 
of  wine,  and  though  I  may  be  blamed  for  this,  yet 
hold  me  lower  than  a  dog  if  ever  I  dream  of 
Paradise. 


M.  K 


In  the  Springtime,  biding  with  one  who  is  houri- 

fair, 
And  a  flask  of  wine,  if  't  is  to  be  had  —  somewhere 
On   the    tillage's   grassy  skirt  —  Alack  !    though 

most 
May  think  it  a  sin,  I  feel  that  my  heaven  is  there  ! 


Rubâiyât  <>J    Omar  Khayyam. 


25 


In  the  sweet  spring  a  grassy  hank  I  sought 
And  thither  wine  and  a  fair  Houri  brought  ; 

And,  though  the  people  called  me  graceless  dog, 
Gave  not  to  Paradise  another  thought  ! 


Whiniield 
(84) 


Yes,    Loved    One,  when  the  Laughing    Spring 

is   blowing, 
With  Thee  beside  me  and  the  Cup  o'ernowing, 

I  pass  the  day  upon  this  Waving  Meadow, 
And    dream    the    while,    no     thought    on     Heaven 

bestowin«"'. 


Garner 
(I.  20) 


Im  Frühling,  wenn  mir  ein  Ilurisgesicht 

Die    Kanne    Weines    schäumend   reicht    als 
Schenke, 
(So  schändlich  diess  auch  däucht  gemeinen  Wicht) 
Bin   ich    ein     Hund,    wenn    ich    ans    Paradies 
gedenke. 


Von 
Hammer- 
Purgstall 


Im  Frühling  mag  ich  gern  im  Grünen  weilen 
Und  Einsamkeit  mit  einer  Freundin  teilen 
Und  einem  Kruge  Wein.    Mag  man  mich  schelten: 
Ich  lasse  keinen  andern  Himmel  gelten. 


Bodenstedt 

(IX.  s.,) 


Gönnt  mir,  mit  dem  Liebchen  im  Gartenrund 
Zu  weilen  bei  süssem  Rebengetränke, 

Und  nennt  mich  schlimmer  als  einen  Hund, 
Wenn  ferner  an's  Paradies  ich  denke  ! 


Von  Schack 
(151) 


For  FitzGerald,  XII  (1868),  and  Whinfield,  39  (1882),  etc., 
see  Appendix  V. 


26 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     Some  for  the  Glories  of  this  World;  and  some 
(XIII.)        Sigh  for  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  come  ; 
!889  Ah,  take  the  Cash,  and  let  the  Credit  go, 

Nor  heed  the  rumble  of  a  distant  Dram  ! 


(XII.) 

is59 


"  How  sweet  is  mortal  Sovranty  !  "  —  think  some  : 
Others  —  "  How  blest  the  Paradise  to  come  !  " 

Ah,  take  the  Cash  in  hand  and  wave  the  Rest  ; 
Oh,  the  brave  Music  of  a  distant  Drum  ! 9 


Nicolas 

(92) 


McCarthy 

(3'4; 


Je  ne  sais  pas  du  tout  si  celui  qui  m'a  créé 
appartenait  au  paradis  délicieux  ou  à  l'enfer 
détestable.  (Mais  je  sais)  qu'une  coupe  de  vin, 
une  charmante  idole  et  une  cithare  au  bord  d'une 
prairie,  sont  trois  choses  dont  je  jouis  présente- 
ment, et  que  toi  tu  vis  sur  la  promesse  qu'on  te 
fait  d'un  paradis  futur. 

I  know  not  if  he  who  created  me  belongs  to 
happy  Paradise  or  terrible  Hell,  but  I  know  that 
a  cup  of  wine,  a  fair  paramour,  and  a  lute  on  the 
borders  of  a  pleasant  land,  rejoice  my  heart  in  this 
present  hour,  and  that  thou  livest  on  the  promise 
of  a  future  Paradise. 


M.  K.  I  know  not  if  He  who  kneaded  my  clay  to  man 

Belong   to   the   host   of   Heaven    or    the    Hellish 
clan  ;  — 
A   life    mid    the    meadows,    with    Woman,    and 
Music,  and  Wine, 
Heaven's  cash  is  to  me;  — let  Heaven's  credit  thy 
fancy  trepan  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


27 


Did  He  who  made  me  fashion  me  for  hell,  Whinfield 

Or  destine  me  for  heaven  ?     I  can  not  tell.  (94) 

Yet  will  I  not  renounce  cup,  lute  and  love, 
Nor  earthly  cash  for  heavenly  credit  sell. 

They  preach  how  sweet  those  Houri  brides  will  be  0°8) 

But  I  say  wine  is  sweeter —  taste  and  see  ! 

Hold  fast  this  cash,  and  let  that  credit  go, 
And  shun  the  din  of  empty  drums  like  me. 

With  Nature's  secrets  be  thou  not  perplexed,  Garner 

Enjoy  this  World  and  do  not  fear  the  Next,  (m.  6) 

Ah,  seize  this  little  Breath  of  Life  as  Cash, 
With  That  to  come  let  not  thy  Heart  be  vexed. 

Der  sprichst  mir  von  Huris,  vom  Paradiese,  Von 
Von  Edens  lusterfüllter  goldner  Wiese.  Hammer- 
Gel)  nimm  den  Pfennig  hin  und  lass  mich  geh'n  Purgstall 
Von  ferne  nur  hört  sich  die  Trommel  schön. 


Ich  weiss  nicht,  wer   zu  diesem    Sein   auf   Erden  Von  Schaek 

mich  erschaffen  hat,  (245) 

Ob   es  ein  guter    Himmelsgeist,  ob  es    ein   böser 

Dämon  that  : 
Das    aber   weiss   ich  :    heut    ercpückt   mich   guter 

Wein  an  Leib  und  Geist, 
Und  erst  in  weiter  Ferne  liegt  der  Himmel,  den 

man  dir  verheisst. 

The   last   two  lines   of   FitzGcrald's   second   edition    (XV, 
1 868)  read:  — 

Ah,  take  the  Cash,  and  let  the  Promise  go, 
Nor  heed  the  music  of  a  distant  Drum  .' 
He  says  in  his  brief  note  (S)  :  "A  Drum  — beaten  outside  a 
Palace." 
See  Rubâ'iy  LXII  and  Appendix  VI. 


28  Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     Look  to  the  blowing  Rose  about  us  —  "  I.o, 


(XIV.) 
1889 


i»59 


"  Laughing"  she  says,  "  into  the  world  I  blow, 

"  At  once  the  silken  tassel  of  my  P  terse 
"  Tear,  and  its  Treasure  on  the  Garden  throw.'1'' 


(Xiii.)        Look  to  the  Rose  that  blows  about  us  —  "  Lo, 


"  Laughing,*'  she  says,  "  into  the  World  I  blow  : 

"  At  once  the  silken  Tassel  of  my  Purse 
"  Tear,  and  its  Treasure 10  on  the  Garden  throw." 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  29 

Quoth  rose,  "  I  am  the  Vusuf  flower,   I  swear,  Whinfield 

For  in  my  mouth  rich  golden  gems  I  bear." 

I  said,  "  Show  me  another  proof."  Quoth  she, 
"  Behold  this  blood-stained  vesture  that  I  wear." 


The  rose  said,  "  I  am  the  Yusuf  flower,  for  my  McCarthy 
mouth    is  full  of  gold  and   jewels."     I    said,    "  If  (4) 

thou  art  the  Yusuf  flower,  show  me  a  certain  sign 
thereof."  And  she  made  answer,  "  Perchance 
that  I  am  garbed  in  a  blood-drenched   garment." 

FitzGerald's  note  (9)  :  "  That  is,  the  Rose's  Golden  Centre." 


M 


30 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald  And  those  who  husbanded  the  Golden  grain, 

(XV.)  And  those  who  flung  it  to  the  winds  like  Rain, 
1889  Alike  to  710  such  aureate  Earth  are  turned 

1859  As,  buried  of  ice,  Men  want  dug  up  again. 

Nicolas  o  idole  !    avant  que  le  chagrin  vienne  t'assaillir, 

(r56)  ordonne    de   nous  servir  du  vin   couleur  de  rose. 

Tu  n'es  pas  d'or,  toi,  ô  insouciant  imbécile  !  pour 

croire  qu'après  t'avoir  enfoui  dans  la  terre  on  t'en 

retirera. 

McCarthy  O,  beloved,  before  care  seizeth  thee,  bid  them 

(277>         serve  us  with  wine  the  colour  of  roses.     Thou  art 

not  made  of  gold,  O  thoughtless  fool,  that   thou 

shouldst  hope  to  be  dug  up  after  thou  art  laid  in 

the  earth. 


M.  K.  Darling,  ere  griefs  our  nightly  couch  enfold  again, 

Bid  wine  be  brought,  red  sparkling  as  of  old,  again  ! 

—  And  thou,  weak  fool  !  think  not  that  thou  art 

gold: 

When   buried,    none   will   dig   thee    up   from   the 

mould  again  ! 

Whinfield      Ere  you  succumb  to  shocks  of  mortal  pain, 

(175)  The  rosy  grape-juice  from  your  wine-cup  drain. 

You  are  not  gold,  that,  hidden  in  the  earth, 
Your  friends  should  care  to  dig  you  up  again  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  31 

Yes,  bid  the  Sâki  fill  the  Brimming  .Measure,  Garner 

And  may  thy  closing  days  be  spent  in  Pleasure,  (L  33> 

For,  when  thy  Dust  within  the  Ground  is  laid, 
'T  will  ne'er  be  sought  as  some  long  buried  Trea- 


Eh'  Du  ein  Opfer  wirst  der  Pein  des  Lebens, 
O  Holde,  trink  den  rosigen  Wein  des  Lebens. 
Der   Thor    nur    glaubt,    dass    man  wie   Gold    ihn 

nieder 
In  's  Grab  senkt  und  als  Gold  herauszieht  wieder. 


Wliinfield,  05  (1SS2),  reads:  — 

Ere  you  succumb  to  shocks  of  mortal  pain, 
Your  roses  gather,  and  your  winecufs  drain  ; 

You  arc  not  gold,  and  once  entombed  in  earth, 
No  one  will  care  to  dig  you  up  again. 


Bodenstedt 

(VI.  s) 


32  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     The  Worldly  Hope  t?ien  set  their  Hearts  upon 
(XVI.)        Turns  Ashes  —  or  it  prospers  ;  and  anon, 
Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two  —  was  gone. 


(Xiv.)        The  Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes  —  or  it  prospers  ;  and  anon, 

Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face 
Lighting  a  little  Hour  or  two  —  is  gone. 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  t>2> 

O  soul  !  lay  up  all  earthly  goods  in  store,  Whinfield 

Thy  mead  with  pleasure's  flowerets  spangle  o'er,  <2-<3) 

And  know  't  is  all  as  dew,  that  decks  the  flowers 
For  one  short  night,  and  then  is  seen  no  more. 


34 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Think,  in  this  batter  d  Caravanserai 

(XVII.;         Whose  Portals  are  alternate  Night  and  Day, 
1889  How  Sultan  after  Sultan  with  his  Pomp 

Abode  his  destined  Hour,  and  went  his  way. 

(XVI.)        Think,  in  this  batter'd  Caravanserai 
1859  Whose  Doorways  are  alternate  Night  and  Day, 

How  Sultan  after  Sultan  with  his  Pomp 
Abode  his  Hour  or  two,  and  went  his  way. 

Nicolas  Ce  vieux  caravansérail  que  l'on  nomme  le  monde, 

(67)  ce  séjour  alternatif  de  la  lumière  et  des  ténèbres, 

n'est  qu'un  reste  de  festin  de  cent  potentats  comme 

Djèmchid.     Ce  n'est  qu'une  tombe  servant  d'oreiller 

à  cent  monarques  comme  Bèhram. 

McCarthy  This  aged  caravanserai  which  men  call  the  world, 

(140)  this  alternating  home  of  light  and  night,  is  but  the 

fag   end  of  a   feast   of  a   hundred   such    lords   as 

Jamshid.     It  is  but  a  tomb  serving  as  a  pillow  for 

the  sleep  of  a  hundred  such  kings  as  Bahram. 


M.  K.  This  old  inn  call'd  the  world,  that  man  shelters  his 

head  in, 
(Pied    curtains    of    Dawn    and   of    Dusk    o'er    it 
spreading;)  — 
'Tis   the    banqueting-hall  many  Jamshids  have 
quitted, 
The  couch  many  Bahrains   have  found  their  last 
bed  in  ! 


Riibâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  35 

What  is  the  world  ?     A  caravanserai,  Whinfield 
A  pied  pavilion  of  night  and  day  ;  (7°) 

A  feast  whereat  a  thousand  Jamsheds  sat,  (34>  "882) 

A  couch  whereon  a  thousand  Bahrains  lay. 

This  World  is  nothing  but  an  Inn  decayed,  Gamer 

A  transient  Resting  Place  of  Light  and  Shade,  (VH-  2> 

A  Banquet  which  a  thousand  Jamsheds  left,  a 
tomb, 
Wherein  a  thousand  Bahrdm-Gours  are  laid. 

Dies  alte  Karawanserai,  genannt  die  Welt,  Bodenstedt 

Bald  nächtig  dunkel,  bald  vom  Tag  erhellt,  (VIII.  5) 

Ist  nur  ein  Rest  von  alten  Herrlichkeiten, 
Ein  Grab  von  Königen,  hochgerühmt  vor  Zeiten. 

Dieses  alte,  morsche  Gasthaus,  das  man  auch  die   Von  Schack 
Erde  heisst,  (-*8) 

Das  bald  tief  in  Dunkel  nachtet,  bald  mit  hellem 
Lichte  gleisst, 

Ist    ein  Abfall    nur    vom    Feste,  welches   hundert 
Kön'ge  gaben, 

Ist  ein  Grab  nur,  d'rin  zum  langen  Schlaf  sie  hin- 
gestreckt sich  haben. 


36 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     They  say  the  Lion  and  the  Lizard  keep 

(XVIII.)       The   Courts   where   Jamshyd  gloried  and  drank 
1S89  deep  : 

AudBahrdm,  that  great  Hunter  —  the  Wild  Ass 
Stamps  o'er  his  Head,  but  cannot  break  his  Sleep. 


(XVII.) 

1859 


Nicolas 

(69) 


McCarthy 
(15O 


M.  K. 


They  say  the  Lion  and  the  Lizard  keep 
The    Courts    where    Jamshyd    gloried    and  drank 
deep  : u 
And  Bahrain,  that  great  Hunter  —  the  Wild  Ass 
Stamps  o'er  his  Head,  and  lie  lies  fast  asleep. 

Ce  palais  où  Bèhram  aimait  à  prendre  la  coupe 
dans  sa  main  (est  maintenant  transformé  en  une 
plaine  déserte)  où  la  gazelle  met  bas,  où  le  lion  se 
repose.  Vois  ce  Bèhram  cpii,  au  moyen  d'un  lacet, 
prenait  les  ânes  sauvages,  vois  comme  la  tombe 
à  son  tour  a  pris  ce  même  Bèhram. 

The  palace,  where  Bahrain  loved  to  troll  the 
bowl,  is  now  the  resting-place  of  stags,  the  lair  of 
lions.  See  how  this  Bahrain  who  loved  to  snare 
the  wild  ass  with  a  running  noose  is  snared  himself 
in  his  turn  by  the  tomb. 

Here,  where   Bahrain  oft  filled  his  Chalice  high, 

elate, 
Now,  beasts  of  prey  the  ruined  palace  violate  ;  — 
Like  the  wild  ass  he  lassoed,  the  great  Hunter 
Lies  in  the  noose  of  Huntsman  Death,  annihilate. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


37 


Here  in  this  palace,  where  Bahrain  held  sway,  Whinfield 

The  wild  roes  drop  their  young,  and  tigers  stray;  (72) 

And  that  great  hunter  king — -ah  !  well-a-day  !  (35,  1SS2) 
Now  to  the  hunter  death  is  fallen  a  prey. 

Now,  here  where  Bahrain  lived  in  wild  carouse,         Garner 
The  Lion  sleeps,  the  Deer  are  wont  to  brousc,  (I.  10) 

Though  oft  he  followed  them  with  bow  and  Spear, 
They  never  will  his  Final  Slumbers  rouse. 


Wüst  liegt  der  Palast, 

Wo  einst  Behram  geprasst. 
Jetzt  scheucht  von  der  Stelle 

Der  Leu  die  Gazelle. 
Wo  der  König  im  Jagen 

Wilde  Esel  erschlagen, 
Versank  er  im  Sumpfe 

Beim  Eselstriumphe. 


Bodenstedt 

(VIII.  6) 


Dieses    Schloss,     in    welchem     Bahrain    froh    den    Von  Schack 

Becher  oft  gefüllt,  (199) 

Dient  Gazellen  nun  zum   Lager,  wird  von  Löwen 

nun  durchbrüllt. 
Der  auf  Jagd  der  wilden  Esel  mit  dem  Fangstrick 

oft  gegangen, 
O  wie  lang  schon  von  des  Todes   Fangstrick  ist 

er  selbst  gefangen  ! 


See  Appendix  VII. 


38  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     /  sometimes  think  that  never  blows  so  red 

The  Rose  as  where  some  buried  Cœsar  bled; 

1889 

That  every  Hyacinth  the  Garden  wears 

Dropt  in  her  Lap  from  some  once  lovely  Head. 


(XVlll.)       I  sometimes  think  that  never  blows  so  red 
l859  The  Rose  as  where  some  buried  Caesar  bled; 

That  every  Hyacinth  the  Garden  wears 
Dropt  in  its  Lap  from  some  once  lovely  Head. 

Whinfield      Where'er  you  see  a  rose  or  tulip  bed, 

(104)  Know  that  a  mighty  monarch's  blood  was  shed  ; 

And  where  the  violet  rears  her  purple  tuft, 
Be  sure  a  black-moled  girl  hath  laid  her  head. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  39 

Erblickt  ihr  eine  Rose,  prächtig  rot,  Von  Schack 

So  denkt  :  darunter  ruht  ein  mächt'ger  König  tot; 
Und  seht  ihr  einen  Krokus  blüh'n,  so  glaubt: 
Ein  schönes  Weib,  nun  tot,  verlor  ihn  einst  vom 
Haupt. 


In    Whinfield,    58  (1SS2),   read,   " some  mighty  monarch,"1 
"  its  purple  tuft,"  "  some  black moled  maiden  rests  her  head.'' 


4° 


Kubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     And  this  reviving  Herb  whose  tender  Green 
(XX.)         Fledges  the  River-Lip  on  which  we  lean  — 
1889  Ah,  lean  upon  it  lightly  !  for  who  knows 

From  what  once  lovely  Lip  it  springs  unseen  ! 

(\ix.)        And  this  delightful  Herb  whose  tender  Green 
1S59  Fledges  the  River's  Lip  on  which  we  lean  — 

Ah,  lean  upon  it  lightly  !  for  who  knows 
From  what  once  lovely  Lip  it  springs  unseen  ! 

Nicolas  Qu'elles  sont  belles,  ces  verdures  qui  croissent 

(59)  aux   bords  des  ruisseaux  !     On  dirait  qu'elles  ont 

pris  naissance  sur  les  lèvres  d'une  angélique 
beauté.  Ne  pose  donc  pas  sur  elles  ton  pied  avec 
dédain,  puisqu'elles  proviennent  du  germe  de  la 
poussière  d'un  visage  coloré  du  teint  de  la  tulipe. 

McCarthy  How   fair   are    the   green  fringes   of   the   living 

(123)  stream.     Surely  they  sprang  once  from  the  lip  of 

some  celestial  fair.     Trample  them  not  with  scorn, 

for  they  spring  from  the  dust  of  a  tulip-tinted  face. 


M.  K. 


The   verdure   sweet   yon    rivulet's    bank    arraying 
there, 

"'T  is  the  down  on  an  angel's  lip,"  in  homely  say- 
ing, there  — 
O  tread  not  thereon  disdainfully  !  —  it  springeth 

From  the  dust  of  some  tulip-cheek  that  lies  decay- 
ing there  ! 


Rubàiyât  oj  Omar  Khayyâm.  41 

Yon  turf,  fringing  the  margent  of  tbe  stream,  Whinfield. 

As  down  upon  a  cherub's  lip  might  seem, 

Or  growth  from  dust  of  buried  tulip  clacks; 
Tread  not  that  turf  with  scorn,  or  light  esteem  ! 

The  Violets  that  by  this  River  grow,  Garner 

Spring  from  some  Lip  here  buried  long  ago  :  —  0-  s) 

And  tread  thou  lightly  on  this  Tender  Green, 
Who  sleepeth  here  so  still,  thou  ne'er  wilt  know. 

So  schön,  wie  den  schönsten  Lippen  entsprungen       Bodenstedt 
Hält  der  blumige  Rasen  den  Bach  umschlungen.  (VI  24) 

Betritt  nicht  verächtlich  dies  zarte  Grün, 
Urin  vergangene  Schönheiten  neu  erblühn. 

Wie  lieblich  wieder  nun  Alles  ward  !  Von  Schack 

Wie   zart  ist  des   Rasens   duftendes    Grün  !  (84) 

Komm',  lass  uns  des  Frühlings  gemessen, 
Doch  tritt  auf  die  Halme  nicht  zu  hart, 

Denn    rosig   hat   einst   das    Gesicht   geblüht, 
aus  dessen  Staube  sie  spriessen. 

Line  i  in  the  second  edition  of   FitzGerald   (XXV,  1S6S) 
reads  :  — 

And  this  delightful  Herb  whose  living  Green. 
Whinlield,  31  (18S2),  is  as  follows  :  — 
Sec  how  the  grass  yon  river  marge  doth  grace, 
So  springs  the  down  upon  a  cherub's  face, 

Tread  not  this  grass  with  scorn,  perchance  it  springs 
From  some  poor  buried  beauty's  cold  embrace. 
See  Appendix  VIII. 


42  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Ah,  my  Beloved,  fill  the  Cup  that  clears 
(XXI.)        To-day  of  past  Regrets  and  future  Fears  : 
lgSg  To-morrow  !  —  Why,  To-morrow  I  may  be 

Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  thousand  Years. 

(XX.)         Ah,  my  Beloved,  fill  the  Cup  that  clears 
1859  To-day  of  past  Regrets  and  future  Fears  — 

To-morrow? — Why,  To-morrow  I  may  be 
Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  Thousand  Years.12 

Nicolas  O  ami  !   viens  à  moi,  ne  nous  soucions  pas    du 

(269)  jour  de  demain  et  considérons  comme  un  butin  ce 

court  instant  d'existence.  Demain,  quand  nous 
aurons  abandonné  cette  vieille  résidence  (le  monde), 
nous  serons  les  compagnons  contemporains  de 
ceux  qui  l'ont  quittée  depuis  sept  mille  ans  ! 


McCarthy  O  my  friend,  come  hither,  let  us  forget  to-day 

(194)  and    to-morrow,  and  steal  this   one  short  hour   of 

life.  When  to-morrow  we  shall  have  abandoned 
this  old  dwelling-place,  we  shall  become  the  con- 
temporaries of  all  those  who  departed  hence  for 
the  last  seven  thousand  years. 


M.  K.  Let    not   the    morrow   make   thee,   friend,   down- 

hearted ! 
Draw  profit  of  the  day  yet  undeparted  : 

We  '11  join,  when  we  to-morrow  leave  this  man- 
sion, 
The  band  seven  thousand  years  ago  that  started  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  43 

O  let  us  not  forecast  to-morrow's  fears,  Whinneld 

But  count  to-day  as  gain,  my  brave  compeers  !  (312) 

To-morrow  we  shall  quit  this  inn,  and  march 
With  comrades  who  have  marched  seven  thousand 
years. 

Komm,    Freund,    wir   wollen   nicht   sorgen    um        Bodenstedt 
morgen,  (VIII.  3S) 

Wir  halten  als  Beute  das  Gute  von  heute  geborgen. 

Verlassen  wir  morgen  dann  dies  alte  Gasthaus  — 
die  Welt,— 

So  werden  wir  Allen,  die  vor  uns  bewohnt  dieses 
Rasthaus,  gesellt. 

Freund  !  lass  jeglichen  Gedanken  an  die  Zukunft  Von  Schack 
uns  begraben  !  (30*) 

An   der    Lust   des   Augenblickes     muss   sich   der 
Verständ'ge  laben  ! 
Morgen,  wenn  wir  sterben  müssen,  werden  wir 
Genossen  derer, 

Die    vor   siebentausend    Jahren    diese   Welt    ver- 
lassen haben. 

FitzGerald's  note  (n)  says:  — 

"A  thousand  years  to  each  Planet." 

The  first  two  lines  of  Whinfield,  167  (1882),  read:  — 
Ah,  why  forecast  to-morrow'1  s  hopes  and  fear  si 
To-day  at  least  is  ours,  O  cavaliers. 


44 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     For  some  we  loved,  the  loveliest  and  the  best 
(xxii.)        That  from  his  Vintage  rolling  Time  hath  prest, 
Have  drunk  their  Cup  a  Round  or  two  before, 
And  one  by  one  crept  silently  to  rest. 


(XXI.)        Lo!  some  we  loved,  the  loveliest  and  best 
l859  That  Time  and  Fate  of  all  their  Vintage  prest, 

Have  drunk  their  Cup  a  Round  or  two  before, 
And  one  by  one  crept  silently  to  Rest. 


Whinfield      My  comrades  all  are  gone  ;   Death,  deadly  foe, 
(2ig)  Has  caught  them  one  by  one,  and  trampled  low  ; 

They  shared  life's  feast,  and  drank  its  wine  with 
me, 
But  lost  their  heads,  and  dropped  a  while  ago. 


Garner  In  Earth's  Dark  Bosom,  Myriads  of  the  Best 

(v  7)         That  She  has  known,  disheartened  in  their  Quest 
For    Truth,    are    sleeping,  while   the   Waste  of 
Naught 
Is  thronged  with  Those  to  come,  and  Those  at  rest. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  45 

O  grimm'ges  Schicksal  !  nichts  als  nur  Verheerung   Von  Schack 
Übst  du  seit  Anbeginn  und  als  Zerstörung!  (3°°^ 

Und  du,  o  Erde  !  wie  viel  Weise.  Grosse 
Und  Edle  ruhen  schon  in  deinem  Schosse  ! 


In  the  second  and  third  editions  of  Fitzgerald,  the  second 
line  reads  :  — 

That  from  his  Vintage  rolling  time  has  pr  est. 


lS 


46 


Rubâiyât  of-  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald    And  we,  that  now  »take  merry  in  the  Room 
(XXlll.)       They  left,  and  Summer  dresses  in  new  bloom, 
1889  Ourselves  must  we  beneath  the  Couch  of  Earth 

Descend — ourselves  to  make  a  Couch  — for  whom  ? 

(XXI r.)       And  we,  that  now  make  merry  in  the  Room 
1S59  They  left,  and  Summer  dresses  in  new  Bloom, 

Ourselves  must  we  beneath  the  Couch  of  Earth 
Descend,  ourselves  to  make  a  Couch  — for  whom? 


Nicolas  Les  nuages  se  répandent  dans  le  ciel  et  recom- 

(70)  mencent  à  pleurer  sur  le  gazon.     Oh  !  il  n'est  plus 

possible  de  vivre  un  instant  sans  vin  couleur  d'ama- 
rante. Cette  verdure  réjouit  aujourd'hui  notre 
vue,  mais  celle  qui  germera  de  notre  poussière,  la 
vue  de  qui  réjoui ra-t-elle? 

McCarthy  The  clouds  spread  over  the  face  of  the  heavens, 

(156)  and  rain  patters  on  the  sward.  How  could  it  be 
possible  to  live  for  a  single  second  without  crimson 
wine  ?  This  green  before  me  delights  my  eye,  but 
the  grass  which  shall  spring  from  my  dust  whose 
eye  will  delight  in  ? 

Whinfleld      Down  fall  the  tears  from  skies  enwrapt  in  gloom, 
(73)  Without  this  drink,  the  flowers  would  never  bloom  ! 

As  now  these  flowerets  yield  delight  to  me, 
So  shall  my  dust  yield  flowers  —  God  knows  for 
whom. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  47 

This  Tufted  Mead  is  sprinkled  by  the  Rain  Garner 

With  all  its  Flowers  which  our  Senses  chain, —  (I-  '7 

Ere    long    the    Flowers    from    our     Dust    will 
spring,  — 
Whose  sight  will  they  rejoice  ?     A  Question  vain. 

Der  Regen  fällt  munter  Bodenstedt 

Auf  den  Rasen  herunter:  (VIII.  92) 

Wie  dem  Rasen  der  Regen, 

Sei  der  Wein  uns  zum  Segen  ! 
Wer  wohl  einst  sich  erfreut 

An  dem  Grün,  wie  wir  heut  ; 
Das  dem  Boden  entsprungen, 

Der  uns  selber  verschlungen  ! 

Frisch  nach  dem  Regen  strahlt  das  Grün  auf  allen   Von  Schack 

Rasenplätzen  :  <5°) 

Wer  möchte  sich  in  solcher  Zeit  am  Weingenuss 

nicht  letzen  ? 
Heut    freu'n    wir    uns    an   diesem    Grün:    doch 

jenes,  das  dereinst 
Auf  unserm  Grabe  spriessen  wird,  wer  wird  sich 

d'ran  ergötzen? 


48  Rubàiyài  of  Ornai-  Khayyàm. 

FitzGerald     Ah,  make  the  most  of  what  %ue  yet  may  spend, 
(XXIV.)       Before  we  too  into  tlie  Dust  descend; 
18S9  Dust  into  Dust,  and  under  Dust  to  lie, 

Sans   Wine,  sans  Song,   sans  Singer,   and — sans 
End  I 

(xxni.)       Ah,  make  the  most  of  what  we  yet  may  spend, 
1S59  Before  we  too  into  the  Dust  descend  ; 

Dust  into  Dust,  and  under  Dust,  to  lie, 
Sans  Wine,    sans  Song,  sans    Singer,  and  —  sans 
End! 


Nicolas 

(34?) 


Cette  roue  des  cieux  court  après  ma  mort  et  la 
tienne,  ami  ;  elle  conspire  contre  mon  âme  et  la 
tienne.  Viens,  viens  t'asseoir  sur  le  gazon,  car 
bien  peu  de  temps  nous  reste  encore  avant  que 
d'autre  gazon  germe  de  ma  poussière  et  de  la 
tienne. 


McCarthy  This  wheel  of  heaven  seeks  my  destruction  and 

(3SS)  thine,  it  plots  against  my  soul  and  thine.     Come, 

seat  thyself  upon  the   grass,  for    in   a  little  while 

fresh  grass  will  spring  from  this  dust  of  mine  and 

thine. 


M.  K.  The  wheel  of  Heaven  thy  death  and  mine  is  bring- 

ing, friend  ! 
Over   our   lives  the  cloud  of   doom   't  is  flinging, 
friend  ! 
Come,  sit  upon  this  turf,  for  little  time  is  left 
Ere  fresher  turf  shall  from  our  dust  be  springing, 
friend  ! 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


49 


O  Love,  for  ever  doth  heaven's  wheel  design  Whinfield 

To  take  away  thy  precious  life,  and  mine  ;  (390) 

Sit  we  upon  this  turf,  't  will  not  be  long 
Ere  turf  shall  grow  upon  my  dust,  and  thine  ! 

The  'wheel  of  heaven'  in  its  Fatal  Play  Garner 

Will  soon  our  Breath  of  Being  steal  away,  —  (ill.  3) 

Come  rest  thee  on  this  bank,  for  from  our  dust 
Will  spring  the  Verdure  at  no  distant  day. 

Das    Himmelsrad    läuft  noch,   wenn    Du    und   ich    Bodenstedt 
längst  geschieden,  (VIII.  58) 

Es  lässt  weder  Deine  noch  meine  Seele  in  Frieden. 

Komm,  setz'  Dich  in's  Grün  ;  nur  kurze  Zeit  wird 
vergehen, 

Eh   anderes  Grün  wird  aus  Deinem    und  meinem 
Staube  erstehen. 

Dieses  rollende  Rad  des  Himmels  ist  zu  unser'm    Von  Schack 

Tod  verschworen,  ^     j 

Und,  sobald's  uns  eingeholt  hat,   Freund,  sind  du 

und  ich  verloren  ! 
Ruh  mit  mir  denn  auf  dem  Rasen  !  Kurze  Zeit  nur 

wird  verfhessen, 
Ach  !  und   über   unser'm    Staube    wird    ein   neuer 

Rasen  spriessen  ! 

Whinfield,  205  (1S82),  reads:  — 

The  wheel  of  heaven  still  holds  his  set  design 
To  take  away  thy  life,  O  love  and  mine. 

Sit  we  on  this  green  turf,  'twill  not  be  long 
Ere  turf  will  hide  my  dust  along  with  thine. 
"  M.  K."  regards  Rubâ'iy  XXIV  as  "complementary  to  the 
sense  of  XXII i,  with  an  addition  not   in  the  Persian."     He 
derives  XXIII  from  Nicolas,  348. 
See  Appendixes  IX  and  XXX. 


5° 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Alike  for  those  who  for  Today  prepare, 
(XXV.)       And  those  that  after  some  To-morrow  stare, 
1889  ^4  Muezzin  from  the  Tower  of  Darkness  cries, 

"  Fools  !  your  Reward  is  neither  Here  nor  There." 

(xxiv.)       Alike  for  those  who  for  To-day  prepare, 
•859         And  those  that  after  a  To-morrow  stare, 

A  Muezzin  from  the  Tower  of  Darkness  cries 
"  Fools  !  your  Reward  is  neither  Here  nor  There  !  " 

Nicolas  Une    multitude  d'hommes   réfléchissent   sur   les 

(337)  croyances,  sur  les  religions  ;   d'autres  sont  clans  la 

stupéfaction  entre  le  doute  et  la  certitude.     Tout  à 

A 

coup,  celui  qui  est  à  l'affût  criera  :  "  O  ignorants  ! 
la  voie  que  vous  cherchez  n'est  ni  là,  ni  là." 

McCarthy  Some   meditate  of   religions   and   beliefs,    some 

(434)  sway  bewildered  betwixt  doubt  and  knowledge. 
Suddenly  the  watcher  cries,  "  Fools,  your  road  is 
not  here  nor  there." 


M.  K.  Myriad    minds   at   work,   of  sects   and   creeds  to 

learn, 

The  Doubtful  from  the  Sure  all  puzzled  to  discern  : 

Suddenly  from  the  Dark  the  crier  raised  a  cry — 

"  Not  this,  nor  that,   ye  fools  !  the   path    that   ye 

must  turn  !  " 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  5  1 

Some   look    for    truth  in    creeds,    and   forms,  and  Whinfield 

rules  ;  ("6) 

Some  grope  for  doubts  or  dogmas  in  the  schools; 

But  from  behind  the  veil  a  voice  proclaims, 
"  Your  road  lies  neither  here  nor  there,  O  fools." 

Viele  Menschen  grübeln  über  Glauben  und  Sitte,       Bodenstedt 
Zwischen  Zweifel    und  Gewissheit   stehn   viele   in      (VIII.  53) 

der  Mitte. 
Unversehens  ruft  Einer  aus  dem  Hinterhalt  her: 
Ihr  Thoren,  der  rechte  Weg  ist  nicht  dieser  noch 

der! 

Über  die  Religionen  sinnen  Viele  und  die  Glau-  Von  Schack 
benssekten,  (g) 

Zwischen    Zuversicht    und    Zweifel    schwanken 
And're  fort  und  fort  ; 
Doch     ein     Ruf     wird    einst     ertönen:     "O     ihr 
Geistesnacht-Bedeckten, 
Wisst,  der  wahre  Weg  zum  Heile  liegt  nicht  hier 
und  Hegt  nicht  dort." 

In  Whinfield,  19S  (1SS2),  rites  instead  of  forms. 


52 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald    Why,  all  the  Saints  and  Sages  who  discuss 'd 
(XXVI.)       Of  the  Two  Worlds  so  wisely  —  they  are  thrust 
lS8g  Like  foolish  Prophets  forth  j   their    Words   to 

Scorn 
Are  scattered,  and  their  Mouths  are  stopt  with  Dust. 

(xxv.)       Why,  all  the  Saints  and  Sages  who  discuss'd 
1859  Of  the  Two  Worlds  so  learnedly,  are  thrust 

Like   foolish    Prophets   forth  ;    their   Words   to 
Scorn 
Are  scatter'd,  and  their  Mouths  are  stopt  with  Dust. 

Nicolas  Ceux   qui  par   la  science   sont  la  crème  de  ce 

(,20)  monde,  qui  par  l'intelligence  parcourent  les  hau- 
teurs des  cieux,  ceux-là  aussi,  pareils  au  firma- 
ment dans  leur  recherche  des  connaissances 
sublimes,  ont  la  tête  renversée,  prise  de  vertige  et 
d'éblouissement. 

McCarthy  Those   who   by  their   learning  are  the  elect  of 

(252)  the  world,  who  by  their  intellect  climb  the  heights 

of  heaven,  those  who  scale  the  firmament  in  their 

search  after  the  things  of  divine  wisdom,  lose  their 

wits,  seized  with  dizziness  and  all  amazement. 


M.  K.  The   learned,   the   cream  of   mankind,   who   have 

driven 
Intellect's  chariot  over  the  heights  of  heaven  — 
Void   and   o'erturned,    like    that   blue   sky  they 
trace, 
Are   dazed,   when   they    to   measure    Thee     have 
striven  ! 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  53 

They  at  whose  lore  the  whole  world  stands  amazed,    Whinfield 
Whose  high    thoughts,  like  Borâk,  to  heaven  are  (147) 

raised, 
Strive  to  know  Thee  in  vain,  and  like  heaven's 

wheel 
Their   heads    are    turning,    and    their    brains    are 

dazed. 

Selbst  die  Leuchten  des  Wissens  dieser  Welt,       Bodenstedt 

Deren  Geist  noch  Licht  zu  den  Sternen  gesellt,        (iv.  3) 
Sind,  wie  diese,  im  Verständnis 

Des  Göttlichen  noch  in  Verblendnis, 
Mit  schwindelndem  Haupt  im  Drehen, 

Mit  schwindelndem  Haupt  im  Sehen, 
Geblendet  von  allem  Glänze 

Im  forschenden  Blick  auf  das  Ganze. 

Solchen   selbst,   auf  deren   Wissen   alle   Welt  be-  Von  Schack 

wundernd  schaut,  (267) 

Deren    Geist    des    höchsten     Fluges    durch    den 

Himmel  sich  getraut, 
Ja    auch    ihnen,    wenn    der    Dinge    Urgrund   sie 

ergründen  wollen, 
Wird   es    schwindeln,    und  sie  wissen  nicht    mehr 

was  sie  sagen  sollen. 

Line  two  in   the   second  and  third  editions  of  FitzGerald 
reads  :  — 

Of  the   T?co  Worlds  so  learnedly,  arc  thrust. 

In  Whinfield,  82  (18S2),  in  the  first  line,  read  wide  instead  of 
whole  ;  and  the  second  line  is  :  — 

Whose  thoughts  above  high  heaven' s  self  are  raised. 

Boiak  :  Muhammad's  steed  on  which  he  mounted  to  paradise. 
See  Appendix  X. 


54 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald    Myself  when  y  ou  tig  did  eagerly  frequent 
(XXVII.)      Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great  argument 
l88  About  it  and  about  :  but  evermore 

Came  out  by  the  same  door  where  in  I  went. 

(XXVII  )      Myself  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
,859  Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great  Argument 

About  it  and  about  :  but  evermore 
Came  out  by  the  same  Door  as  in  I  went. 

Nicolas  Semblable  à  un  épervier,  je  me  suis  envolé  du 

(225)  monde  des  mystères,  espérant  m'élever  vers  un 
monde  plus  haut  ;  mais,  tombé  ici-bas  et  n'y 
trouvant  personne  cligne  de  partager  mes  secrètes 
pensées,  je  suis  ressorti  par  la  porte  par  laquelle 
j'étais  entré. 

McCarthy  I    have  flown   like    a   sparrow-hawk  forth  from 

(4o)  this  world  of  mysteries,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  a 

higher  sphere.  But,  fallen  again  to  the  earth,  and 
finding  none  worthy  of  sharing  the  hidden  thoughts 
of  my  heart,  I  have  gone  forth  again  by  the  door 
through  which  I  came. 


M.  K. 


Whinfleld 
(264) 


Forth,  like  a  hawk,  from  Mystery's  world  I  fly, 
Seeking  escape  to  win  from  the  Low  to  the  High  : 
But  finding  none  that  more  of  it  knows  than  I, 
Out  through  the  door  I  go  that  I  entered  by  ! 

I  flew  here,  as  a  bird  from  the  wild,  in  aim 
Up  to  a  higher  nest  my  course  to  frame  ; 

But,  finding  here  no  guide  who  knows  the  way, 
Fly  out  by  the  same  door  where  through  I  came. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  55 

Aus    der   Welt    der    Geheimnisse   wollt'    ich   ent-   Bodenstedt 
schweben,  (V.  iS) 

In  eine  höhere  Welt  hofft'  ich  mich  zu  erheben, 
Wie  ein  Sperber  war  ich  emporgeflogen, 

Doch  ward  ich  zur  Erde  zurückgezogen, 
Und  da  ich  hier  Niemand  gesehen 

Im  Stande  mich  zu  verstehen, 
So  bleibt  mir  von  diesem  Leidenshorte 

Kein  Ausgang  als  die  Eingangspforte. 

Wie  ein   Falk  entflog  ich  jener  Welt  der  Geister,   Von  Schack 

um  von  dort  (143) 

Höh're    Welten     zu    erfliegen  ;    doch     an    diesen 

nieder'n  Ort 
Sank  ich  hin,  und,  da  ich  fremd  mich  hier  und 

unverstanden  sah, 
Auf  dem  Weg,  den  ich  gekommen,  flieg'  ich  nun 

von  Neuem  fort. 

The   last   line   of   Edition   II  of    FitzGerald  (XXX,   1868) 
reads  :  — 

Came  out  by  the  same  door  as  in  I  went. 

The  last  line  of  Whinfield,  143  (1SS2),  is  :  — 

Fly  out  by  that  same  door  through  which  I  came. 
See  Appendix  XI. 


56  Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 

FitzGerald     With  them  the  seed  of  Wisdom  did  I  sow, 

^  ''     And  with  mine  own  hand  wrought  to  make  it  grow  j 

1889 

And  this  was  all  the  Harvest  that  I  reaped — 

"  I  came  like  Water,  and  like  Wind  I  go" 

(XXViii.)      With  them  the  Seed  of  Wisdom  did  I  sow, 
And  with  my  own  hand  labour'd  it  to  grow  : 

And  this  was  all  the  Harvest  that  I  reap'd  — 
"  I  came  like  Water,  and  like  Wind  I  go. 

Whinfield      I  studied  with  the  masters  long  ago, 

(353)  And  long  ago  did  master  all  they  know  ; 

Hear  now  the  end  and  issue  of  it  all, 
From  earth  I  came,  and  like  the  wind  I  go. 

In  the  second  and  third  edition  of  FitzGerald,  line  two  reads  : 

And  with  my  ozvti  hand  wrought  to  make  it  grow. 
Von  Schack,  183,  is  translated  from  the  English. 
In  Whinfield,  1S5  (1882),  the  last  two  lines  read: 
What  is  the  end  and  issue  of  it  all? 
"  /  came  like  water  and  like  wind  I  go." 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  57 

A   somewhat    analogous    thought    inspires    the 
following  :  — 

Jusqu'à    quand    seras-tu   la    dupe    des    couleurs  Nicolas 
et  des  parfums  d'ici-bas  ?     Quand  cesseras-tu  tes  (132) 

recherches  sur  le  bien  et  le  mal  ?  Fusses-tu  la 
source  de  Zèmzèm,  fusses-tu  même  l'eau  de  la 
vie  que  tu  ne  saurais  éviter  d'entrer  dans  le  sein  de 
la  terre. 

How  long  will  you  remain  the  dupe  of  this  world's   McCarthy- 
delicate  dyes  and  odours?     When  will  you  cease         (2II> 
from  vexing  about  the  good  and  the  bad  ?     Were 
you  the  fountain  of  youth,  were  you  the  very  water 
of  life  itself,  that  should  not  save  you  from  sinking 
into  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 

Why  toil  ye  to  ensue  illusions  vain,  Whinfield 

And  good  or  evil  of  the  world  attain  ?  ('58) 

Ye  rise  like  Zamzam,  or  the  fount  of  life, 
And,  like  them,  in  earth's  bosom  sink  again. 

Wie  lange  wirst  Du  Dich  von  Düften  und  Farben   Bodenstedt 

blenden  lassen  ?  (in.  13) 

Wann  Dein  Forschen  über  Gutes  und  Böses  enden 

lassen  ? 
Und   wärest    Du    der    Lebensquell    selber,    Du 

müsstest 
Es  doch  bei  der  Rückkehr  zum  Staube  bewenden 

lassen. 


58  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzO-erald     Into  this  Universe,  and  Why  not  knowing 
(XXix.)       Nor  Whence,  like  Water  willy-nilly  flowing  ; 
1889  And  ont  of  it,  as  Wind  along  the  Waste, 

I  know  not  Whither,  willy-nilly  blowing. 


(XXix.)       Into  this  Universe,  and  why  not  knowing, 
^59  Nor  whence,  like  Water  willy-nilly  flowing: 

And  out  of  it,  as  Wind  along  the  Waste, 
I  know  not  whither,  willy-nilly  blowing. 

Nicolas  Mon   tour  d'existence  s'est   écoulé  en  quelques 

(22)  jours.     Il  est  passé  comme  passe  le  vent  du  désert. 

Aussi,  tant  qu'il  me  restera  un  souffle  de  vie,  il  y 

a  deux  jours  dont  je  ne  m'inquiéterai  jamais,  c'est 

le  jour  qui  n'est  pas  venu  et  celui  qui  est  passé. 

McCarthy  My  run  of  life  slips  by  in  a  few  days.     It  has 

(51)  passed  me  by  like  the  wind  of  the  desert.     There- 

fore, so  long  as  one  breath  of  life  is  left  to  me, 
there  are  two  days  with  which  I  shall  never  vex  my 
spirit,  the  day  that  has  not  yet  come,  and  the  day 
that  has  gone  by. 

M.  K.  This  life  is  but  three  days'  space,  and  it  speeds 

apace, 
Like  wind  that  sweeps  away  o'er  the  desert's  face  : 
So  long    as  it  lasts,  two  days  ne'er  trouble  my 
mind, 
—  The  day  undawned,  and  the  day  that  has  run  its 
race. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  59 

My  life  lasts  but  a  day  or  two,  and  fast 
Sweeps  by,  like  torrent  stream  or  desert  blast, 

Hovvbeit,  of  two  days  I  take  no  heed, — 
The  day  to  come,  and  that  already  past. 

A  few  short  Fleeting  Days,  —  our  Life  flies  fast, 
'T  is  gone,  it  flies  as  flies  the  Desert-blast, 
But  yet  there  are  two  days  of  neither  Joy 
Nor  Pain,  the  Day  to  come,  the  Day  now  past. 


Whinfield 

(26) 
(12,  1882) 


Garner 
(I.  24) 


As  sweeps  the   plain  the  hurrying  wind,  as  flows         *" 

the  rippling  stream, 
So  yesterday  from  our  two  lives  has  passed  and 

is  a  dream  ; 
And  while  I  live,  these  to  my  soul  shall  bring  nor 

hope,  nor  dread, 
The  morrow  that  may  never  come,  the  yesterday 

that  fled. 

Schnell,  wie  der  Wüstenwind  entflieht  mein  Leben,   Bodenstedt 
Allein  solang  mir  Odem  noch  gegeben,  (VIII.  90) 

Mach'  ich  mir  um  zwei  Tage  keinen  Gram  : 
Den  Tag,  der  schon  verging,  und  den,  der  noch 
nicht  kam. 


See  Appendix  XII. 


6o 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald 
(XXX.) 

18S9 
(XXX.) 

1859 


(XXXIII.) 

I86S 


Whinfield 
(110) 

(64,  1882) 


What,  without  asking,  hither  hurried  Whence  ? 
And,  without  asking,  Whither  hurried  hence  ! 

Oh,  many  a  Cup  of  this  forbidden  Wine 
Must  drown  the  memory  of  that  insolence  ! 

What,  without  asking,  hither  hurried  whence? 
And,  without  asking,  whither  hurried  hence! 

Another  and  another  Cup  to  drown 
The  Memory  of  this  Impertinence! 

What,  without  asking,  hither  hurried  whence 
And,  without  asking,  whither  hurried  hence! 

Ah,  contrite  Heav'n  endowed  us  with  the  Vine 
To  drug  the  memory  of  that  insolence. 

I  came  not  hither  of  my  own  free  will, 
And  go  against  my  wish,  a  puppet  still  ; 

Cupbearer!  gird  thy  loins,  and  fetch  some  wine; 
To  purge  the  world's  despite,  my  goblet  fill. 


Von  Schack  Der  Mensch  kam  auf   die  Welt  und  wurde  nicht 

(146)  gefr"agri 

Ihn  fragen  wird  man  nicht,  wenn  man  hinweg  ihn 

jagt  ; 
So     gab     der     Himmel     ihm     die     Traube    zum 

Geschenke, 
Damit     er,     weinberauscht,     der     Unbill      nicht 

gedenke. 

Nicolas  D'abord,  il  m'a  donné  l'être  sans  mon   assenti- 

(ii7)  ment,    ce   qui   fait   que    ma   propre   existence    me 

jette  dans  la  stupéfaction.*     Ensuite,  nous  quittons 

ce  monde  à  regret  et  sans  y  avoir  compris  le  but 

de  notre  venue,  de  notre  halte,  de  notre  départ. 


*  Agitation,  surprise,  trouble. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  61 

At  the  first,  life  was  given  unto  me  without  my  McCarthy 
consent,  therefore  my  own  existence  filled  me  with  (l88) 

astonishment.  Finally,  with  regret  we  lapse  out 
of  this  world,  understanding  neither  the  purpose  of 
our  coming,  our  stay,  nor  our  departure. 

He  brought  me  hither,  and  I  felt  surprise,  Whinfield 

From  life  I  gather  but  a  dark  surmise,  (i45) 

I  go  against  my  will;  —  thus,  why  I  come, 
Why  live,  why  go,  are  all  dark  mysteries. 

Ungefragt   kam     ich    zur    Welt,    staunend    mich  Bodenstedt 
darin  zu  sehen  ;  (vm.  3) 

Ungefragt    muss   ich    hinaus,    ohne    sie    noch    zu 
verstehen, 

Ohne  nur  den  Grund  zu  ahnen  meines  Kommens 
oder  Scheidens, 

Und  —  solang    ich    atmend    leide  —  dieses   rätsel- 
vollen Leidens. 

Ohne   meinen  Willen  hat  er  mir  zuerst  das  Sein     Von  Shack 

gegeben  (,2) 

Und   mit    Staunen  und   Verwundr'ung   schau'  ich 

an  mein  eig'nes  Leben. 
L^ns    zum    Kummer    aus   der   Welt   dann   werden 

wir  hinweggerissen, 
Ohne   uns'res   Kommens,    uns'res    Gehens   Zweck 

und  Ziel  zu  wissen. 

See  Appendix  XII  and  Rubâ'iy  LXXIV. 
16 


62  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Upfront  Ear tJî 's  Centre  through  the  Seventh  Gate 
(XXXI.)       I  rose,  and  on  the  Throne  of  Saturn  sate, 

And  many  a  Knot  unraveVd  by  the  Road; 
But  not  the  Master-knot  of  Human  Fate. 

(xxxi.)      Up  from  Earth's  Centre  through  the  Seventh  Gate 
1859  1  rose,  and  on  the  Throne  of  Saturn  sate,18 

And  many  Knots  unravel'd  by  the  Road  ; 
But  not  the  Knot  of  Human  Death  and  Fate. 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  63 

I  solved  all  problems,  down  from  Saturn's  wreath     Whinfield 
Unto  this  lowly  sphere  of  earth  beneath, 

And  leapt  out  free  from  bonds  of  fraud  and  lies, 
Yea,  every  knot  was  loosed,  save  that  of  death  ! 


Compare  Bodensteilt  III,  11. 
Jetzt,  wo  noch  mein  Aug1  und  Odern  auf  den  Schein   der 

Dinge  stbsst. 
Scheint  mir,  -wenig  Leben sriit sei  geV  es,  die  ich  nicht  gelöst  ; 
Doch  mich  gründlich  prüfend  find'  ich  an  der  Summe  des 

Erkennen  s  : 
Was  mir  klar  im  dunklen  Leben  wurde,  ist  nicht  wert  des 

Nenncns. 

FitzGerald's  second  edition  (XXXIV,  1S6S)  is  the  same  as 
XXXI  in  subsequent  edition,  except  in  the  third  line,  which 
reads  :  — 

And  many  Knots  unravcPd  by  the  Road. 

His  brief  note  numbered  13  in  the  first  edition,  12  in  those 
of  1S68,  1S72,  and  1S79,  reads,  "Saturn,  Lord  of  the  Seventh 
Heaven." 

Whinfield's    1SS2    version    (161)   has    the    first   two    lines 
thus  :  — 
I  solved  all  problems  down  from  Saturn's  wreath 
Into  the  deepest  heart  of  Earth  beneath. 


64  Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no  Key  j 
(XXXII.)      There  was  the  Veil  through  which  I  might  not  see  : 
Some  little  talk  awhile  of  Me  and  Thee 
There   was — and   then  no  more  of  Thee   and 
Me. 


(XXXII.)      There  was  a  Door  to  which  I  found  no  Key  : 
There  was  a  Veil  past  which  I  could  not  see  : 
Some  little  Talk  awhile  of  Me  and  Thee 
There  seemed  —  and  then   no  more  of  Thee  and 
Me.15 

McCarthy  The  secret  of  eternity  is  far  from  thee  and  me  ; 

the  word  of  the  enigma  is  unknown  to  thee  and 
me;  behind  the  veil  is  speech  of  thee  and  me;  but 
if  the  veil  be  rent,  what  haps  to  thee  and  me  ? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  65 

Nor  you  nor  I  can  read  the  etern  decree,  Whinfield 

To  that  enigma  we  can  find  no  key  ;  (389) 

They  talk  of  you  and  me  behind  the  veil, 
But,  if  that  veil  be  lifted,  where  are  we? 

Line  2  in  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  editions  of  Fitz- 
Gerald  reads  :  — 

There  was  the  Veil  through  which  I  could  not  see: 

The  fact  that  in  the  first  edition  (1S59)  stanza  XLI  has 
note  number  14  seems  to  indicate  a  rearrangement  after  copy 
was  sent  to  printer.     He  explains  the  stanza  in  his  note  (13)  : 

"  ME-AND-THEE  :  some  dividual  Existence  or  Personality 
distinct  from  the  Whole." 

Mahmud  Shabistari  in  his  Gulshan-i-Ràz  says:  — 

He  from  whose  eyes  God  still  the  path  conceals 
By  Key  of  logic  may  no  door  unclose. 

Whinfield,  203  (18S2),  reads:  — 

Nor  you  nor  I  can  read  our  destiny  ; 
To  that  dark  riddle  we  can  find  no  key, 

They  talk  of  you  and  me  behind  the  red, 
But  when  the  veil  is  lifted,  where  are  we  ? 

"Meaning,"  says  Whinfield,  "We  are  part  of  the  'veil' 
of  phenomena,  which  hides  the  Divine  Noumenon.  If  that 
be  swept  away  what  becomes  of  us  ?  " 

See  Appendix  XI;  also  Appendix  XXXII  ad finem. 


66 


Ru  Mirât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Earth  could  not  answer  j  nor  the  Seas  that  mourn 
(xxx  Hi)     /;/  ßowing  Purple,  of  their  Lord  forlorn  ; 

1SS9  j\ior  rolling  Heaven,  with  all  his  Signs  reveaVd 

And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  Night  and  Morn. 

Nicolas  Tu  me  demandais  ce  que  c'est  que  cette  fantas- 

(232)  magorie  des  choses  d'ici-bas.     Te  dire  à  cet  égard 

toute   la  vérité  serait  trop   long:    c'est  une  image 

fantastique  qui  sort  d'une  vaste  mer  et  qui  rentre 

ensuite  dans  cette  même  vaste  mer. 

McCarthy  Thou  askest   me  the    meaning  of  this   phantas- 

(63)  magoria  of  things  here   below.     To  expound   the 

whole  of  it  to  thee  would  be  a  work  without  end. 
It  is  a  fantastic  vision,  which  springs  from  a 
boundless  ocean  and  sinks  again  into  the  same 
ocean  from  which  it  arose. 


Whinfleld      You  ask  what  is  this  life  so  frail,  so  vain, 
(27i)  'Tis  long  to  tell,  yet  I  will  make  it  plain  ; 

'Tis  but  a  breath  blown  from  those  vasty  deeps 
And  then  blown  back  to  those  same  deeps  again  ! 

Garner  What  may  this  Moving  Panorama  be? 

(IX.  3)        Ah  would  that  I  could  tell  it  all  to  Thee  ; 

'T  is    Something    tossed   up    by    the   boundless 
Vast, 
That  will  return  to  that  Same  Unknown  Sea. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  67 

Du   fragst,  was  diese  Welt  sei?     Wohl!   ich  will      Von  Schack 
dich  nicht  betrügen,  (190) 

Und  sage  kurz  dir,  was  davon  mich  dünkt. 
Sie  ist  ein  Schaumgebilde,  das  dem  grossen  Meer 
entstiegen 
Und  in  dies  Meer  von  Neuem  untersinkt. 


Blue  or  purple  is  the  mourning  color  in  the  East.  Attar, 
says  FitzGerald,  lias  a  story  of  "the  Sea.  being  askt  'why  he 
-  'lis  Waves  in  Blue?'— And  he  answers  he  does  so 
for  the  Loss  of  One  who  will  never  return." 

Tn  a  letter  to  Professor  Cowell  dated  March  12,  1857, 
FitzGerald  wrote:  "While  I  think  of  it,  why  is  the  Sea  "(in 
that  Apologue  of  Attar  once  quoted  by  Falconer)  supposed  to 
have  lost  Cod?  Did  the  Persians  agree  with  something  I 
remember  in  Plato  about  the  Sea,  and  all  in  it,  being  of  an 
Inferior  Nature,  in  spite  of  Homer's  divine  Ocean  ?" 

Professor  Cowell  in  a  note  to  William  Aldis  Wright  says  : 
'•  I  well  remember  shewing  it  to  FitzGerald  and  reading  it 
with  him  in  his  early  Persian  days  at  Oxford  in  i.S^;.  I 
laughed  at  first  at  the  quaintness;  but  the  idea  seized  his 
imagination  from  the  first,  and,  like  Virgil  with  Ennius'  rough 
jewels,  his  genius  detected  gold  where  1  had  seen  only  tinsel. 
He  has  made  two  grand  lines  out  of  it." 

In  searching  in  Plato  for  the  passage  mentioned  by 
FitzGerald,  I  accidentally  turned  first  to  the  place  in  the 
"  Theaitetos,"  where  Sokrates  asks  if  Homer,  in  singing  oi 
Okeanos  and  the  birth  of  the  gods  and  Tethys  the  mother 
does  not  mean  that  all  things  are  the  offspring  of  flux  and 
motion.  1  thought  it  remotely  possible  that  this  was  the 
passage  dimly  remembered.  But  Professor  W.  W.  Goodwin 
of  Harvard  University,  whom  1  ventured  to  approach  with  the 
question,  seemed  to  think  not.  He  was  kind  enough  to  write 
nv:  "I  could  find  nothing  whatever  in  Plato  to  justify 
!  raid's  remark  :  and  I  searched  also  in  other  places.  .-.  * ■., 
in  Plutarch,  to  see  if  the  passage  could  be  quoted.  I  also 
in  Teller's  lude\  to  see  if  any  earlier  philosopher  said 
anything  of  the  kind.  But  it  was  in  vain:  and  I  suspect  that 
dear  old  F.  G.  dreamed  the  passage 

In  the  second  edition,  1S6S,  numbered  XXXVI,  the  third 
line  reads  :  — 

Nor  ffeav'n,  with  those  eternal  Si^ns  reveal' d. 
See  Appendix  XIII. 


68 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


Pitz Gerald     Then  of  the  Thee  in  Me  who  works  behind 
(XXXIV.)      The  Veil,  I  lifted  np  my  hands  to  find 

l889  A  Lamp  amid  the  Darkness  ;  and  I  heard, 

As  from    Without — "The   Me  within   Thee 
blind  !  " 

(XXXlii.)     Then  to  the  rolling  Heav'n  itself  I  cried, 
1859  Asking,  "  What  Lamp  had  Destiny  to  guide 

"  Her  little  Children  stumbling  in  the  Dark?" 
And  —  "  A  blind  Understanding!  "  Heav'n  replied. 

(xxxvii.)     Then  of  the  Thee  in  Me  who  works  behind 
1S68  The  Veil  of  Universe  I  cried  to  find 

A  Lamp  to  guide  me  through  the  Darkness  ;  and 
Something  then  said  —  "  An  Understanding  blind." 

Nicolas  O  toi,  à  la  recherche  de  qui  un  monde  entier  est 

(204)  dans  le  vertige  et   dans  la  détresse!  le  derviche  et 

le  riche  sont  également  vides  de  moyens  pour 
parvenir  à  toi:  ton  nom  est  mêlé  aux  entretiens  de 
tous,  mais  tous  sont  sourds  ;  tu  es  présent  aux 
yeux  de  tous,  mais  tous  sont  aveugles. 


McCarthy  Oh  thou,  whom  all  creation  seeketh  in  madness 

(226)         and  despair,  the  dervish  and   the  rich  man    alike 

find  no  way  to  reach   unto  thee.     Thy  name  is  in 

the  mouth  of  all  men,  but  all   are  deaf.     Thou  art 

present  to  all  eves,  but  all  are  blind. 


Rubâiyât  oj    Omar   Khayxdm.  69 

The  world  is  baffled  in  its  search  for  Thee,  Whinfield 

Wealth  cannot  find  Thee,  no,  nor  poverty;  (247) 

Thou  'rt  very  near  us,  but  our  ears  are  deaf, 
Our  eyes  are  blinded  that  we  may  not  see  ! 

In  vainly  seeking  Thee  no  Rest  we  find,  Garner 

But  in  and  out  the  Labyrinth  we  wind.  (X.  1) 

Though    every  Tree   and  Rock  proclaims    Thy 
Name 
And  Work,  our  Ears  are  Deaf,  our  Eyes  are  blind. 

Die  Ganze  Welt  ist  in  trostlosem  Suchen  nach  Dir    Bodenstedt 

befangen,  (I.  12) 

Der  Derwisch  wie  der  Nabob  ist  ohne  Mittel  zu 

Dir  zu  gelangen, 
Deinen   Namen    nennt   Jeder,     aber     Alle    sind 

taub, 
Du    erscheinst   jedem    Auge,   doch    sie    sind    alle 

verhangen. 

Du,  nach  dem  die  Welt,  die  ganze,  unaufhaltsam    Von  Schack 

strebt  und  ringt,  (235) 

Den  zu  finden  so  dem  Reichsten,  wie  dem  Ärmsten 

nicht  gelingt  ; 
Vor  den  Augen  Aller  schwebst  du,  aber  Aller  sind 

sie  blind, 
Alle    nennen    deinen    Namen,    während    taub   sie 

Alle  sind. 

In  Whinfield,   136  (1SS2),  line  3  ends  :  are  stopped. 


7° 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


PitzGerald     Then  to  the  Lip  of  this  poor  earthen  Urn 
(XXXV.)      j  lean 'd,  the  Secret  of  my  Life  to  learn  . 
1889  And  Lip  to  Lip  it  murmured —  "  While  you 

live, 
"  Drink  !  — for,  once  dead,  you  never  shall  return.'''' 

(xxxiv.)     Then  to  this  earthen  Bowl  did  I  adjourn 
Its59  My  Lip  the  secret  Well  of  Life  to  learn  : 

And  Lip  to  Lip  it  murmur'd —  "  While  you  live 
"  Drink!  —  for  once  dead  you  never  shall  return." 

Whinfield     I  put  my  lips  to  the  cup,  for  I  did  yearn 
(274)         The  hidden  cause  of  length  of  days  to  learn  ; 

He  leaned  his  lip  to  mine,  and  whispered  low, 
"  Drink  !  for,  once  gone,  you  never  will  return." 


Nicolas  O    toi  qui  es  le  résultat  des  quatre  et  des  sept, 

(389)  je  te  vois  bien  embarrassé  entre  ces  quatre  et  ces 

sept.     Bois  du  vin,  car,  je  te  l'ai  dit  plus  de  quatre 

fois,  tu  ne  reviendras  plus;    une   fois  parti,  tu  es 

bien  parti. 


McCarthy  Q  offspring  of  the  four  and  five,  art  puzzled  by 

*345>  the  four  and  five?  Drink  deep,  for  I  have  told 
thee  time  on  time,  that  once  departed,  thou 
returnest  no  more. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  7 1 

Sprung  from  the  Four,  and  the  Seven  !     I  see  that  M.  K. 

never 
The  Four  and  the  Seven  respond  to   thy  brain's 

endeavour  — ■ 
Drink  wine  !  for  I  tell  thee,  four  times  o'er  and 

more, 
Return  there  is  none  !  —  Once  gone,  thou  art  gone 

for  ever  ! 

Child  of  four  elements  and  sevenfold  heaven,  Whinfield 

Who  fume  and  sweat  because  of  these  eleven,  (43,) 

Drink  !  I  have  told  you  seventy  times  and  seven, 
Once  gone,  nor  hell  will  send  you  back,  nor  heaven. 

Mit  Euren   vier  Elementen  und  sieben    Himmeln   Bodenstedt 
geht  mir!  (VII  44) 

Als  verlegener  Auszug  dieser  Doppelwelt  steht  Ihr  ! 

Trink   Wein,    Freund,    ich   hab's    Dir    schon    oft 
gesagt  : 

Wer  geht,  kommt   nicht  wieder;    sei's  Gott  auch 
geklagt  ! 

Line  2  of  FitzGerald,  XXXVIII  (186S),  reads  :  — 
Ilean'd,  the  secret  Well  of  Life  to  learn. 
Whinfield,  223  (18S2),  reads,  "slave  of  four  elements,"  and 
the   second   line  is  :  — 

Who  aye  bemoan  the  thrall  of  these  eleven. 

Whinfield,  149  (1SS2),  reads:  — 

I  put  my  lips  to  the  cup,  for  I  did  yearn 
The  secret  of  the  future  life  to  learn  ; 

And  from  his  lip  I  heard  a  whisper  drop, 
u  Drink  !  for  once  gone  you  never  will  return." 
One   man,    two  worlds,   four   elements,    five    senses,   seven 
planets,  eight  heavens,  nine  spheres,  ten  powers. 


72 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     /  think  the  Vessel,  that  with  fugitive 
(XXXVI.)      Articulation  answer 'd,  once  did  live, 

l889  A  mi  drink  ;  and  Ah  !  the  passive  Lip  1 kiss 'd, 

How  many  Kisses  might  it  take  —  and  give  ! 

(xxxv.)      I  think  the  Vessel,  that  with  fugitive 
!859  Articulation  answer'd,  once  did  live, 

And  merry-make  ;  and  the  cold  Lip  I  kiss'd 
How  many  Kisses  might  it  take  —  and  give  ! 

Nicolas  Cette    cruche   a   été    comme    moi    une   créature 

(28)  aimante  et  malheureuse,  elle  a  soupiré  après  une 

mèche  de  cheveux  de  quelque  jeune  beauté  ;    cette 

anse   que    tu  vois  attaché  à  son  col  était  un  bras 

amoureusement  passé  au  cou  d'une  belle. 

McCarthy  This   jar  has   been,  like  me,   a  creature,  loving 

(73)  and  unhappy;  it  has  sighed  for  the  long  tresses  of 

some  fair  young  girl  ;   that  handle    by  which   you 

hold  it  now,  was  once  a  loving  arm  to  linger  fondly 

round  some  fair  one's  neck. 


Whinfield      This  jug  did  once,  like  me,  love's  sorrows  taste, 
(32)  And  bonds  of  beauty's  tresses  once  embraced, 

This  handle,  which  you  see  upon  its  side, 
Has  many  a  time  twined  round  a  slender  waist! 


Rubâ/iyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  73 

A  sighing  bit  of  Breathing  Clay,  this  Vase,  Garner 

Once  humbly  bowed  before  a  Woman's  Face,  ^v"-  5) 

This  earthen  Handle  fixed  about  its  Neck, 
Did  oft  in  Love  a  Cypress  Form  embrace. 

Dieser  Krug  ist,  wie  ich,  unglücklich  lebendig      Bodenstedt 

gewesen,  (HI- 3) 

In  schöne  Augen  und  Locken  verliebt  unverständig 
gewesen. 
Dieser  Henkel  am  Halse  des  Kruges  war  einst 
ein  Arm, 
Der  in  Umhalsung  der  Schönen  unbändig  gewesen. 

Ein  armer  Verliebter  ist,  wie  ich,  einst  dieser  Krug 

von  Lehm  gewesen, 
Um    Locken  einer  schönen  Maid  hat    er  geseufzt  Von  Schack 

in  Liebesharm;  (5) 

Um  einen  weichen  Nacken  ist  als  Arm 
Geschlungen  dieser  Henkel  ehedem  gewesen. 

Line  3  in  FitzGerald,  XXXIX  (1S6S),  reads  :  — 

And  drink  ;   and  that  impassive  Lip  I  fciss'd. 

In  Whinfield,  17  (1SS2),  the  second  and  third  lines  read  :  — 

In  bonds  of  beauty's  tresses  chained  fast , 

This  very  handle  pendent  on  its  neck. 


74 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald    for  I  remember  stopping  by  the  way 
(xxxvii.)      -fo  watch  a  Potter  thumping  his  wet  Clay  : 
1889  And  with  its  all-obliterated  Tongue 

It  murmur 'd — ■  "  Gently,  Brother,  gently,  pray  !  " 

(xxxvi.)     For  in  the  Market-place,  one  Dusk  of  Day, 
1859  I  watch'd  the  Potter  thumping  his  wet  Clay  : 

And  with  its  all  obliterated  Tongue 
It  murmur'd  —  "  Gently,  Brother,  gently,  pray  !  " 


Nicolas  Hier,  j'ai  remarqué  au  bazar  un  potier  donnant 

<2II>  à  outrance    des  coups  de  pieds    à  une   terre  qu'il 

pétrissait.       Cette   terre    semblait    lui    dire:    Moi 

aussi  j'ai  été  ton  semblable  ;   traite-moi  donc  avec 

moins  de  rigueur. 

McCarthy  Yesterday  I  beheld  at  the  bazaar  a  potter  smit- 

(24s)  ing  with  all  his  force  the  clay  he  was  kneading. 
The  earth  seemed  to  cry  out  to  him,  "  I  also  was 
such  as  thou  —  treat  me  therefore  less  harshly." 


Whinfield      I  saw  a  busy  potter  by  the  way 

(252)  Kneading  with  might  and  main  a  lump  of  clay  ; 

(137.  1882)      And,  lo,  the  clay  cried,  "  Use  me  gently,  pray, 
I  was  a  man  myself  but  yesterday  !  " 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  75 

I  saw  a  Potter  at  his  Work  to-day,  Garner 

With  rudest  Hand  he  shaped  his  yielding  Clay,  (VII.  9) 

"  Oh  gently  Brother,  do  not  treat  me  thus, 
I  too,  was  once  a  Man,"  I  heard  it  say. 

Einen  Töpfer  sah  ich  gestern  im  Basar,  Bodenstedt 

Der  ganz  wütig  im  Stampfen  von  Thonerde  war  ;  (x-  9) 

Diese     schien   ihm   zu  sagen  :    Freund,    mich   zu 

erweichen, 
Behandle  mich  menschlich,  ich  war  auch  Deines- 
gleichen ! 


Ich  schaute  gestern  einem  Töpfer  zu,  Von 

Der  schlug  auf  frischen  Lehm  gewaltig  zu. 


Da  sprach  der  Lehm  mit  seinem  eignen  Wort: 
Schlag'  mich  nicht  so  ;  bin  ich  denn  nicht  was  Du  ! 


For  Fitzgerald's  note  and  further  illustrations  of  the  thought 
of  this  Rubâ'iy,  see  Appendix  XIV. 


Purgstall 


76 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     And  lias  not  such  a  Story  from  of  Old 
(Xxxvili.)    Down  Man's  successive  generations  rolFd 
1889  Of  such  a  clod  of  saturated  Earth 

Cast  by  the  Maker  into  Human  mould  ? 

(xxxvili.)    Listen  —  a  moment  listen  !  —  Of  the  same 
(1S72, 3d  ed.)     Poor    Earth    from    which    that    Human    Whisper 
came 
The  luckless  Mould  in  which  Mankind  was  cast 
They  did  compose,  and  call'd  him  by  the  name. 


Nicolas 

(119) 


Ces  potiers  qui  plongent  constamment  leurs 
doigts  dans  l'argile,  cpui  emploient  tout  leur  esprit, 
toute  leur  intelligence,  toutes  leurs  facultés  à  la 
pétrir,  jusqu'à  quand  persisteront-ils  à  la  fouler  de 
leurs  pieds,  à  la  souffleter  de  leurs  mains?  À  quoi 
pensent-ils  donc  ?  C'est  cependant  de  la  terre  de 
corps  humains  qu'ils  traitent  ainsi. 


McCarthy  The    potters    who    without    cease    plunge   their 

(270)  hands  in  the  clay,  who  give  all  their  mind,  all  their 

skill,  to  form  it,  how  long  will  they  continue  to 
trample  it  under  foot,  to  smite  it  with  their  hands  ? 
What  then  are  their  thoughts  ?  Do  they  not  con- 
sider that  it  is  the  mould  of  mankind  they  treat 
thus  ? 


Wninfield     A  potter  at  his  work  I  chanced  to  see, 

(493)  founding  some  earth  and  shreds  of  pottery  ; 

I  looked  with  eyes  of  insight,  and  methought 
'  T  was  Adam's  dust  with  which  he  made  so  free 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  77 

The  Potter  deftly  shapes  his  turning  Clay,  Garner 

And  knead  and  mould  it  with  what  Skill  he  may  ;  (VII.  7) 

He  little  thinks  it  once  of  Human  kind, — 
The  Earth  he  mangles  in  his  Humor  gay. 

Diese  Töpfer,  die  mit  Füssen  und  Händen  Bodenstedt 

Die  Thonmasse  treten,  kneten  und  wenden,  (VIII.  7) 

Ihren  ganzen  Witz  und  Verstand  erschöpfen 

Zur  Vorbereitung  von  Krügen  und  Töpfen  : 
Sie  selber  scheinen  nicht  klar  zu  sehen, 

Was  sie  da  schlagen,  stampfen  und  drehen, 
Sonst  waren  sie  selbst  darüber  betreten, 

Dass  sie  Staub  von  Menschengebeinen  kneten. 

Ihr  Töpfer,  die  emsig  den  Thon  ihr  knetet,  Von  Schack 

Mit  Händen  ihn  klopft,  mit  Füssen  ihn  tretet,  (4) 

Bedenkt  doch  :  was  ihr  also  misshandelt, 
Sind  Menschenleiber,  zu  Erde  verwandelt  ! 

In  the  first  draught  of    Edition  III,  FitzGerald  wrote  the 
first  line  :  — 

For,  in  your  ear  a  moment  —  of  the  same. 

In  XLI,  Edition  II,  line  1  reads  :  — 

For  has  not  such  a  Story  from  of  OU. 


17 


78 


Rubaiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     And  not  a  drop  that  from  our  Cups  we  throw 
(XXXIX.)     f0l-  Earth  to  drink  of  but  may  steal  below 
1889  t0  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  Eye 

There  hidden  — far  beneath,  and  long  ago. 

(XLll.)        And  not  a  drop  that  from  our  Cups  we  throw 
1868  On  the  parent  herbage  but  may  steal  below 

To  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  Eye 
There  hidden  —  far  beneath,  and  long  ago. 

Nicolas  Chaque  gorgée  de  vin  que  réchanson  verse  dans 

(188)         la  coupe  vient  éteindre  dans  tes  yeux  brûlants  le 

feu  de  tes    chagrins.     Ne   dirait-on   pas,  ô   grand 

Dieu!  que  le  vin  est  un  élixir   qui  chasse  de  ton 

cœur  cent  douleurs  qui  l'oppressaient? 

McCarthy  Each  drop  of  wine  which  the  cup-bearer  pours 

(■7°)  into  the  cup  will  quench  the  fire  of  grief  in   thy 

burning  eyes.     Is  it  not  said,  O  great    God,    that 

wine  is  an  elixir  which  drives  away  all  the  sorrows 

that  weigh  down  the  heart? 


Whinfield     The    showers    of    grape-juice,     which     cupbearers 
(203)  pour, 

(no,  1882)      Quench  fires  of  grief  in  many  a  sad  heart's  core; 
Praise  be  to  Allah,  who  hath  sent  this  balm 
To  heal  sore  hearts,  and  spirits'  health  restore. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  79 

Jedes    Glas  Wein,   das  Du  trinkst,  wird  löschend   Bodenstedt 
saugen  <-lx-  83> 

Am  Feuer  des  Schmerzes  in  deinen  Augen. 

Ist  der  Wein  nicht  ein  Mittel,  das  Wunder  thut 

Und,     selbst  glühend,     löscht    Anderer     Schmer- 
zensglut  ? 

See  Appendix  XV. 


8o 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     As  then  the  Tulip  for  her  morning  sup 
(XL.)         Of  Heavenly  Vintage  from  the  soil  looks  up, 
1889  Do  you  devoutly  do  the  like,  till  Heav'n 

To  Earth  invert  you  —  like  an  empty  Cup. 


(XLiii.)       As  then  the  Tulip  for  her  wonted  sup 
1868  of  Heavenly  Vintage  lifts  her  chalice  up, 

Do  you,  twin  offspring  of  the  soil,  till  Heav'n 
To  Earth  invert  you  like  an  empty  Cup. 


Nicolas 

(40) 


Imite  la  tulipe  qui  fleurit  au  noorouz  ;  prends 
comme  elle  une  coupe  dans  ta  main,  et,  si  l'occa- 
sion se  présente,  bois,  bois  du  vin  avec  bonheur, 
en  compagnie  d'une  jeune  beauté  aux  joues  colorées 
du  teint  de  cette  fleur,  car  cette  roue  bleue,  comme 
un  coup  de  vent,  peut  tout  à  coup  venir  te 
renverser. 


McCarthy  Copy  the  tulip,  that  flames  with  the  new  year; 

(102)  take,  like  her,  the  cup  in  your  hand,  and  drink  at 

all  advantage  your  wine  with  a  light  heart,  in  com- 
pany with  a  youthful  beauty  with  tulip  cheeks. 
For  yon  blue  wheel  may  like  a  whirlwind  at  any 
moment  dash  you  down. 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  Si 

Like  tulips  in  the  Spring  your  cups  lift  up,  Whinfield 

And,  with  a  tulip-cheeked  companion,  sup  (44) 

With  joy  your  wine,  or  e'er  this  azure  wheel 
With  some  unlooked  for  blast  upset  your  cup. 


Nimm  Dir  ein  Beispiel  an  der  Tulpe,  welche  Bodenstedt 

Des  Himmels  Gaben  zeigt  im  blühenden  Kelche.  (1X-  48) 

Halt  hoch  den  Kelch  und  küsse  Tulpenwangen, 


Noorouz,  the  Persian  New  Year,  beginning  at  the  equinox, 
March  21.  It  is  spelled  by  FitzGerald  Naw  Rooz,  but  in 
the  edition  contained  in  FitzGerald's  Life  and  Letters,  Now 
Rooz. 

In  the  first  draught  of  Edition  III,  line  2  reads  :  — 

Of  Wine  from  Hcav'n  her  little  Tass  lifts  up. 
In  the  third  edition  (1S72)  there  is  no  dash  in  the  last  line. 


82  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khâyyam. 

FitzGerald     Perplext  no  more  with  Hitman  or  Divine, 
(XLI.)        To-morrow's  tangle  to  the  winds  resign, 
1889  And  lose  your  fingers  in  the  tresses  of 

The  Cypress-slender  Minister  of  Wine. 

(LV.)         oh,  plagued  no  more  with  Human  or  Divine 
1868  To-morrow's  tangle  to  itself  resign, 

And  lose  your  fingers  in  the  tresses  of 
The  Cypress-slender  Minister  of  Wine. 


Nicolas 
(294) 


Voici  l'aurore,  viens,  et,  la  coupe  pleine  de  vin 
rose  en  main,  respirons  un  instant.  Quant  à 
l'honneur,  à  la  réputation,  ce  crystal  fragile, 
brisons-le  contre  la  pierre.  Renonçons  à  nos  désirs 
insatiables,  bornons-nous  à  jouir  de  l'attouchement 
des  longues  chevelures  des  belles  et  du  son 
harmonieux  de  la  harpe. 


McCarthy  Behold  the  dawn  arises.     Let  us  rejoice  in  the 

(283)  present  moment  with  a  cup  of  crimson  wine  in  our 

hand.     As  for  honour  and   fame,  let  that   fragile 
crystal  be  dashed  to  pieces  against  the  Earth. 


Whinfield     'Tis  dawn  !  my  heart  with  wine  I  will  recruit, 
(332)         And  dash  to  bits  the  glass  of  good  repute  ; 
My  long-extending  hopes  I  will  renounce, 
And  grasp  long  tresses,  and  the  charming  lute. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  83 

Schon  atmet  der  Morgen,  begriissen  wir  froh  ihn,  Bodenstedt 

beim  Weine  (IX-  8S) 

Und   werfen   des  Leumunds    zerbrechliches    Glas 

auf  die  Steine. 
Entsagen  wir  leicht  allen  schwer  zu  erreichenden 

Zielen, 
Um    in  üppigen    Locken  beim  Klange  der    Harfe 

zu  spielen. 

Lasst  trinken  uns  beim  Morgenrot  !     Sagt  an,  was  Von  Schack 
kann  es  uns  kümmern,  ^ 

Wenn  Ehre  und  Ruf,  dies  vergängliche  Glas,  zu 
Scherben  sich  wandeln  und  Trümmern  ? 

Nichts  wünschen  lasst  auf  Erden  uns  mehr,  nein 
mit  den  lieblichen  Tönen 

Der  Harfe  wollen  zufrieden  wir  sein  und  den  wall- 
enden Locken  der  Schönen. 

See  Appendix  XVI. 


84 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Ajidifthe  Wine  you  drink,  the  Lip  yon  press, 
(XLil.)        End  in  what  All  begins  and  ends  in  —  Yesj 
1889  Think  then  you  are  To-day  what  Yesterday 

You  were  —  To-morrowj/ö»  shall  not  be  less. 

(XLVll.)       And  if  the  Wine  you  drink,  the  Lip  you  press, 
1859  End  in  the  Nothing  all  Things  end  in  —  Yes  — 

Then  fancy  while  Thou  art,  Thou  art  but  what 
Thou  shalt  be  —  Nothing:  —  Thou  shalt  not  be  less. 


(XLV.) 

1868 


Nicolas 
(49) 


And  if  the  Cup  you  drink,  the  Lip  you  press, 
End  in  what  All  begins  and  ends  in  —  Yes  ; 

Imagine  then  you  are  what  heretofore 
You  were  —  hereafter  you  shall  not  be  less. 

Si  le  cœur  humain  avait  une  connaissance  des 
secrets  de  la  vie,  il  connaîtrait  également,  à 
l'article  de  la  mort,  les  secrets  de  Dieu.  Si  au- 
jourd'hui que  tu  es  avec  toi-même  tu  ne  sais  rien, 
que  sauras-tu  demain  quand  tu  seras  sorti  de  ce 
toi-même  ? 

If  the  human  heart  could  know  the  secrets  of 
life,  it  would  know  too,  knowing  death,  the  secrets 
of  God.  If  to-day,  when  you  are  with  yourself, 
you  know  nothing,  what  shall  you  know  to-morrow, 
when  you  have  passed  from  yourself? 

Whinfield    If  the  heart  knew  life's  secrets  here  below, 

(52)  At  death  't  would  know  God's  secret  too,  1  trow  ; 

But,  if  you  know  naught  here,  while  still  your- 
self, 
To-morrow,  stripped  of  self,  what  can  you  know  ? 


McCarthy 
(69) 


Rubâiyâl  of  Omar  Khayyam.  85 

Durchschaute    das     Herz    das     Geheimniss     des    Bodenstedt 

Lebens,  (iv.  2) 

So   erforscht'    es   den    Tod  und   auch    Gott   nicht 

vergebens. 
Kannst    Du   heute,     noch    ganz    bei     Dir    selbst, 

nichts  gewahren, 
Was  wirst  Du  morgen,  wenn  ganz  Dir  entfremdet, 

erfahren  ? 

Begriffe   dieses    Leben  nur  von    Grund  aus   unser  Von  Schack 
Geist,  (a3) 

Wohl  würd'  er  die  Geheimnisse  des  Todes  auch 
erkunden  ; 
Doch  wenn  du  heute,  da  du  noch  bei  Sinnen  bist, 
nichts  weisst, 
Was  wirst  du  morgen  wissen,  wenn  die  Sinne  dir 
geschwunden  ? 

In  the  first  draught  of  Edition  III  the  first  line  reads  :  — 

And  if  the  Cup,  andifthe  Lip  yon  press. 
Whinfield,  28  (1882),  reads,  line  1,  earth'' s  secrets;  line  2, 
heaven'' s  secrets. 
Compare  Von  Schack,  105  :  — 

Wenn  dir  das  Haupt  von  Wein  benebelt  ist,  sei  froh! 
Wenn  eine  Schöne  dir  die  Lippen  kits  st,  sei  froh  .' 

Der  Erdendinge  Ziel  und  Endpunkt  ist  das  Nichts, 
Drum  denk'1  an  dieses  Nichts,  und,  weil  du  bist,  sei  froh  ! 
See  Rubä'iy  LUI  and  Appendixes  XI  and  XVIII. 


86  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     So  when  that  Angel  of  the  darker  Drink 
At  last  shall  find  you  by  the  river-brink, 

l889 

And,  offering  his  Cup,  invite  your  Soul 
Forth   to   your   Lips    to   quaff  —  you    shall   not 
shrink. 


(XLVlil.)     While  the  Rose  blows  along  the  River  Brink, 
1859  With  old  Khayyam  the  Ruby  Vintage  drink: 

And  when  the  Angel  with  his  darker  Draught 
Draws  up  to  Thee  —  take  that,  and  do  not  shrink. 


(XLVI.)       So  when  at  last  the  Angel  of  the  drink  16 
Of  Darkness  finds  you  by  the  river-brink, 

And,  proffering  his  Cup,  invites  your  Soul 
Forth  to  your  Lips  to  quaff  it —  do  not  shrink. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  87 

Deep  in  the  rondure  of  the  heavenly  blue,  Whinfield 

There  is  a  cup,  concealed  from  mortals'  view, 

Which  all  must  drink  in  turn  ;  O  sigh  not  then, 
But  drink  it  boldly,  when  it  comes  to  you  ! 


In  the  first  draught  of  Edition  III  the  reading  of  186S  was 
followed,  except  that  "  proffering  "  was  changed  to  "  offering  :  " 
but  in  Edition  III  the  stanza  assumed  its  final  form.  In  Edi- 
tion IV,  instead  of  "  that  Angel,"  read  "  the  Angel." 

FitzGerald  says  in  his  note  (16)  :  — 

"  According  to  one  beautiful  Oriental  Legend,  Azrael  accom- 
plishes his  mission  by  holding  to  the  nostril  an  Apple  from 
the  Tree  of  Life. 

"  This,  and  the  two  following  Stanzas,  would  have  been  with- 
drawn, as  somewhat  de  trop,  from  the  Text,  but  for  advice 
which  I  least  like  to  disregard." 

The  first  three  lines  of  Whinfield,  139  (1SS2),  read  :  — 
Deep  in  the  rondure  of  the  empyreal  blue 
There  lies  a  cup  hid  from  all  mortal  view, 

Which  comes  to  all  in  turn;  oh!  sigh  not  then. 


88 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald 

(XLIV.) 
1S89 


Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside, 
A/ni  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Were1 1  not  a  Shame  —  ivere^t  nota  Shame  for  him 
In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide  ? 


From  Preface  of  Oh,  if  my  soul  can  fling  his  Dust  aside, 
Edition  i.      And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Is  't  not  a  Shame,  is  't  not  a  Shame  for  Him 
So  long  in  this  Clay  Suburb  to  abide! 

Whinfield      O  soul  !  could  you  but  doff  this  flesh  and  bone, 
(436)  You  'd  soar  a  sprite  about  the  heavenly  throne  ; 

Had  you  no  shame  to  leave  your  starry  home, 
And  dwell  an  alien  on  this  earthy  zone  ? 

Garner  Oh  that  the  soul  might  leave  its  Earthen  Home 

(V.  n)        And   wing   its    Flight   through    Heaven's    Mighty 
Dome, 
What  Shame,  what  Shame  to  feel  itself  confined 
Within  a  tenement  of  Basest  Loam. 


Nicolas 

(17O 


McCarthy 
(268) 


The  same  thought  recurs  :  — 

De  temps  à  autre  mon  cœur  se  trouve  à  l'étroit  dans 
sa  cage.  Il  est  honteux  d'être  mêlé  avec  l'eau  et  la 
boue.  J'ai  bien  songé  à  détruire  cette  prison,  mais 
mon  pied  aurait  alors  rencontré  une  pierre  en  glissant 
sur  l'étrier  du  chèr'e  (loi  du  Koran). 

From  time  to  time  my  heart  seems  cabined  in  its  cage. 
It  is  a  disgrace  to  be  thus  blended  of  water  and  of  earth. 
I  dreamed  of  breaking  down  this  prison-house,  but  then 
my  foot  would  slip  on  the  stone  of  the  law  of  the  Koran. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  89 

Oft  doth  my  soul  her  prisoned  state  bemoan,  Whinfield 

Her  earth-born  annate  she  would  fain  disown,  (,87) 

And  quit,  did  not  the  stirrup  of  the  law- 
Upbear  her  foot  from  dashing  on  the  stone. 

Zuweilen  kommt  mein  stolzer  Geist  mit  dem  Körper  in    Bodenstedt 
Zerwürfnis,  (VIII.  28) 

Er    schämt    sich    der    Gemeinsamkeit    mit    niedrigem 
Bedürfnis. 

Ich  habe  öfter  schon  gedacht  zu  sprengen  diesen  Kerker, 

Allein  der  Selbsterhaltung   Pflicht  erwies  sich    immer 
stärker. 

Oft   fühlt   mein    Herz   mit    Kummer   sich  von  diesem  Von  Schack 

Käfig  eingeengt  (79) 

Und    sieht   sich   voll    Beschämung    hier   dem   niedern 

Erdenstaub    vermengt  ; 
Uen    Käfig   zu   verbrechen    dann   wohl    wandelt   mich 

Verlangen  an, 
Allein  verpönt  ist  solche  That,  ich  weiss,  dem  frommen 

Muselmann. 

In   FitzGerald,    Editions   III    and    IV    (1872,    1879),   line 
3  reads  :  — 

Wer V  not  a  Shame  —  wer' I  not  a  Shame  for  him. 

The  last   two  lines  of  Editiun    II  differ  from  those  in  the 
Preface  of  Edition  I  only  in  the  matter  of  capitalization  :  — 
/s't  not  a  shame  —  is't  not  a  shame  for  him 
So  long  in  this  Clay  suburb  to  remain. 

The  last  line  of  Whinfield,  218  (18S2),  reads  :  — 
And  drop  to  earth  like  some  poor  downcast  stone. 


9o 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


Fitz  Gerald     'Tis  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one  day's  rest 
(XLV.)        A  Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest  ; 
QQ  The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrâsh 

i  sog 

Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest. 

From  Preface  of  Or  is  that  but  a  Tent,  where  rests  anon 
Edition  I.      A  Sultan  to  his  Kingdom  passing  on, 

And  which  the  swarthy  Chamberlain  shall  strike 
Then  when  the  Sultan  rises  to  be  gone? 

Nicolas  O  Khèyam  !    ton  corps   ressemble    absolument  à 

(80)  une   tente  :  l'âme  en  est  le    sultan,  et  sa  dernière 

demeure  est  le  néant.     Quand  le  sultan  est  sorti  de 

sa  tente,  les  fèrrachs  du  trépas  viennent  la  détruire 

pour  la  dresser  à  une  autre  étape. 

McCarthy  Khayyam,  your  body  is  like  unto  a  tent,  the  soul 

(169)  thereof  is  the  sultan,  and  his  last  home  is  nothing- 

ness. When  the  sultan  quits  his  pavilion,  the 
fatal  Ferrash  strikes  it,  to  set  it  up  at  another 
stage. 

M.  K.  Thy  body's  a  tent,  where  the  Soul,  like  a  King  in 

quest 
Of  the  goal  of  Nought,  is  a  momentary  guest  ;  — 

He  arises;  Death's  famish  uproots  the  tent, 
And  the  King  moves  on  to  another  stage  to  rest. 


Whinfield      Thy  body  is  a  tent,  where  harbourage 
(82)  The  Sultan  spirit  takes  for  one  brief  age  ; 

When  he  departs,  comes  the  tent-pitcher  death, 
Strikes  it,  and  onward  moves,  another  stage. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  91 

Khayyam,  your  body  is  a  Tent,  your  Soul,  Garner 

A  Sultan,  destined  to  an  Unknown  Goal  ;  (XI.  8) 

The  dread  Ferrâsh  of  Doom  destroys  the  Tent, 
The  Moment  that  the  Sultan's  Summons  toll. 

O  Chajjam,  Dein  Körper  gleicht  einem  Zelt,  Bodenstedt 

Dem  Geist,  als  König,  zur  Wohnung  bestellt.  (VIII.94) 

Zieht  der  König  aus,  so  wird's  abgetragen 
Und  am  andern  Orte  neu  aufgeschlagen. 

Ganz  vergleichbar  ist  dein  Leib,  o  Chijam,  einem  Von  Schack 

Fürstenzelt  ;  (59) 

In  dem  Leib  wohnt  deine  Seele,  die  nachher  dem 

Tod  verfällt  ; 
Wenn   der  Fürst  das  Zelt  verlassen,  abgebrochen 

wird's  alsbald  ; 
Neu  errichtet   dann  für  neue  Wohner  dient's   als 

Aufenthalt. 

In  LXX,  Edition  II,  1S6S,  of  FitzGerald,  line  1  reads:  — 

But  that  is  but  a  tent  wherein  may  rest. 
In  Edition  III,  1S72,  the  word  Sultan  has  no  accent. 
Whinfield,  37  (1SS2),  reads  :  — 

This  body  is  a  tent,  which  for  a  space 

Doth  the  pure  soul  with  kingly  presence  grace, 

When  he  departs,  comes  the  tent-pitcher,  death, 
Strikes  it,  and  moves  to  a  new  halting-place. 

Mr.  John  Leslie  Garner  kindly  gives  the  following  prose 
translation  to  show  how  far  the  idea  of  evolution  was  from  the 
mind  of  the  twelfth  century  poet  :  — 

Khayyam  .'  thy  body  resembles  a  tent  truly  ;  the  Soul  a 
sultan  is  ;  his  resting-place  is  in  naught  ;  the  fcrrash  of 
doom,  because  of  another  resting  place  (for  the  sultan) 
destroys  (removes  or  overturns)  the  tent  when  the  sultan  has 
risen . 

The  ferrâsh  is  a  body-servant. 


Q2 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald 
(XLVI.) 


(XLvir.) 
1868 


Nicolas 
(137) 


McCarthy 

(235) 


Ana  fear  not  lest  Existetice  closing  your 
Account,  and  mine,  should  know  the  like  no  more  j 

The  Eternal  Sâki  from  that  Bowl  has  pour 'd 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  us,  and  will  pour. 

And  fear  not  lest  Existence  closing  your 
Account,  should  lose,  or  know  the  type  no  more 

The  Eternal  Sâki  from  that  Bowl  has  pour'd 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  us,  and  will  pour. 

O  Khèyam  !  bien  que  la  roue  des  cieux  ait,  en 
dressant  sa  tente,  fermé  la  porte  aux  discussions, 
(il  est  évident  cependant)  que  l'échanson  de 
l'éternité  (Dieu)  a  produit,  sous  forme  de  globules 
de  vin,  dans  la  coupe  de  la  création,  mille  autres 
Khèyam  semblables  à  toi. 

O,  Khayyam,  although  indeed  the  wheel  of 
heaven,  in  setting  its  tent,  has  closed  the  door  to 
discussions,  nevertheless  the  eternal  Cup-bearer 
has  formed  in  the  cup  of  creation  a  thousand  other 
Khayyams  like  unto  thee. 


Whinfield      What  though  the  sky  with  its  blue  canopy 
(i6i)  Doth  close  us  in  so  that  we  can  not  see, 

In  the  etern  Cupbearer's  wine,  methinks, 
There  float  a  myriad  bubbles  like  to  me. 


Garner 

(VI.  10) 


Fair  Heaven's  Tent  was  long  since  raised,  't  was 

Then 
That  Nature's  Ways  were  hid  from  Human  Ken, 

Life's  Cup  the  Everlasting  Sâki  filled 
With  Millions  of  these  Bubbles,  called  Men. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  93 

O  Chajjam,  obgleich  das  Himmelszelt  Bodenstedt 

Geheimnissvoll  umschliesst  die  Welt,  (vin.  ,3) 

So  glaub'  ich  doch,  es  hat  in  der  Zeit 

Der  Schenke  des  Weins  der  Ewigkeit 
Geschaffen  tausend  Deinesgleichen 

Im  Schöpfungskelch,  dem  wunderreichen, 
Die  munter  im  Weine  steigen  zum  Lichte 

Und  als  Bläschen  sich  zeigen  unserm  Gesichte. 

Chijam  !  wie  durch  einen  Vorhang  ist  das  Weltall   Von  Schack 
dir  verschlossen,  (     j 

Aber  Eins  erkennst  du,  deckt  auch  Dunkel  sonst 
dein  Auge  zu  : 
In  der  Schöpfung  grossem  Becher,  den  der  Ew'ge 
vollgegossen, 
Eine  der  Millionen  Blasen,  die  drin  schwimmen, 
nur  bist  du. 


In  the   third  edition  of    FitzGerald  (1S72)  the    word   Sdki 
has  no  accent  on  the  final  vowel. 

Whinfield,  90  (1882),  has  in  line  1,  u  his  blue  canopy,'1''  and 
the  fourth  hue  reads  :  — 

There  float  some  thousand  bubbles  such  as  we. 

See  Appendix  XVIII. 


18 


94  Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     When  You  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  past, 

(XLVll.)      oil,  but  the  long,  long  while  the  World  shall  last, 
1889  Which  of  our  Cotning  and  Departure  heeds 

As  the  Sea'' s  self  should  heed  a  pebble-cast. 

(XLVll.)      When  you  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  past, 
1872  Oh  but  the  long  long  while  the  World  shall  last 

Which  of  our  Coming  and  Departure  heeds 
As  the  Sev'n  Seas  should  heed  a  pebble-cast. 

Nicolas  Oh  !  que  de  temps  où  nous  ne  serons  plus  et  où 

(123)  le  monde  sera  encore  !     Il  ne  restera  de    nous  ni 

renommée,  ni  trace.  Le  monde  n'était  pas  incom- 
plet avant  que  nous  y  vinssions  ;  il  n'y  sera  rien 
changé  non  plus  quand  nous  en  serons  partis. 

McCarthy  Alas  !  how  long  the  time  will  be  when  we  are  no 

(210)  longer  in  this  world,  and  the  world  will  still  exist. 

There  will  remain  of  us  neither  fame,  nor  trace. 
The  world  was  not  imperfect  before  we  came  into 
it  —  it  will  be  in  no  wise  changed  when  we  are 
departed  hence. 


Whinfield      The  world  will  last  long  after  Khayyam's  fame 

(15°)  Has  passed  away,  yea,  and  his  very  name  ; 

(83,  1882)  Aforetime  we  were  not,  and  none  did  heed. 

When  we  are  dead  and  gone,  'twill  be  the  same. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  95 

Die  Welt  wird  noch    lange  sich  drehn,  wenn  wir   Bodenstedt 
verschwunden  daraus,  (Vin.  9) 

Und    Keine     Spur   wird   sein    zu   sehn,    dass   wir 
verschwunden  daraus  : 
Der  Welt  fehlte  nichts,  eh'  wir  kamen  zur  Welt, 

Und    es   wird    kein    Mangel    entstehn    wenn    wir 
verschwunden  daraus. 


O  welche  lange,  lange  Zeit  nach  uns  noch  wird  die  Von  Schack 

Welt  besteh'n  !  U«6) 

Im    Wind   wird   jede    Spur   von    uns,    wird   unser 

Name  selbst  verweh'n, 
Vor   unserer  Geburt  behalf  die  Welt   ganz  gut 

sich  ohne  uns, 
Und  keine  Lücke  wird  entsteh'n,  wenn  wieder  wir 

von  dannen  geh'n. 


In  FitzGerald's  second  edition  (1S6S)  the  last  line  reads: 
As  muck  as  Ocean  of  a  pcbbie-cast. 


96 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald 
(XLVIII.) 
1889 


A  Momenfs  Halt  —  a  momentary  taste 
Of  Being  from  the  Well  amid  the  Waste  — 

And  Lo  !  —  the  phantom  Caravan  has  reached 
The  Nothing  it  set  out  from  —  Oh,  make  haste  ! 


(XXXVill.)    One  Moment  in  Annihilation's  Waste, 

1859  One  Moment,  of  the  Well  of  Life  to  taste  — 

The  Stars  are  setting  and  the  Caravan 
Starts   for   the    Dawn    of    Nothing16  —  Oh,  make 
haste  ! 

(XLix.)       One  Moment  in  Annihilation's  Waste, 
1S6S  One  Moment,  of  the  Well  of  Life  to  taste  — 

The  Stars  are  setting  and  the  Caravan17 
Draws    to    the    Dawn    of    Nothing  —  Oh    make 
haste! 


Nicolas  Cette  caravane  de  vie  passe  d'une  manière  bien 

(106)  étrange  !  Sois  sur  tes  gardes,  ami,  car  c'est  le 
temps  de  la  joie  qui  s'échappe  ainsi  !  Ne  t'inquiète 
donc  pas  du  chagrin  qui  demain  attend  nos  amis, 
et  apporte-moi  vite  la  coupe,  car  vois  comme  la 
nuit  s'écoule  ! 


McCarthy  This  caravan  of  life  passeth  in  a  strange  manner 

(^5)  —  Beware,  oh,  friend,  for  it  is  the  time  of  thy  plea- 

sure which  tleeth  from  thee  thus.  Trouble  not 
thyself,  therefore,  for  the  grief  which  awaiteth  our 
friends  on  the  morrow,  for  behold  how  the  night 
passeth  away. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


97 


Life's  caravan  is  hastening  on  its  way  ;  Whinfield 

Brood  not  on  troubles  of  the  coming  day,  (136) 

But  fill  the  wine-cup,  ere  sweet  night  be  gone, 
And  snatch  a  pleasant  moment,  while  you  may. 

Life's  Caravan  unheeded  steals  away,  Garner 

And  with  it  passes  all  our  Pleasure,  nay,  (V.  3) 

Fear  not  the  Pain  the  Future  has  in  Store,  — 
But  drink,  upon  us  steals  the  Twilight  gray. 

Fill  high  the  cup  though  ache  the  weary  brow  ■  #(22) 

Fill  with  the  wine  that  doth  with  life  endow, 
For  life  is  but  a  tale  by  watch-fire  told. 
Haste  thee  !  the  fire  burns  low  —  the  night  grows 
old. 

Diese  Lebenskarawane  ist  ein  seltsamer  Zug,  Bodenstedt 

Darum  hasche  die  flüchtige  Freude  im  Flug  !  (ix.  66) 

Mach'  Dir  um  künftigen  Gram  keine  Sorgen, 
Fülle  das  Glas,  bald  naht  wieder  der  Morgen! 

O  wie     schnellen     Zugs    von   dannen     zieht     die   Von  Schack 

Lebenskarawane  !  (276) 

Schneller   flieht   die    Zeit    der     Freude,    als   ich's 

glaube,  als  ich  's  ahne  ; 
Drum   des    Grams  nicht  will  ich  denken,  welcher 

morgen  auf  uns  harrt  ; 
Her  den  Wein!  die  Nacht  entflieht  schon;  freu'n 

wir  uns  der  Gegenwart. 


In  FitzGerald's  first  draught  of  Edition  III.  the  third  line 
reads  :  — 

Before  the  starting  Caravan  has  reach' d. 

!n  the  fourth  edition  the  last  word  is  spelt  reacht. 


98 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Would  you  that  spangle  of  Existence  spend 
(XLix.)       About  the  secret  —  quick  about  it,  Friend  ! 
lS8g  A  Hair  perhaps  divides  the  False  and  True, 

And  upon  what,  prithee,  may  life  depetid? 

(L  )  A  Hair  perhaps  divides  the  False  and  True  ; 

lS8  Yes  j  and  a  single  Alif  were  the  clue  — 

Could  you  but  find  it  —  to  the  Treasure-house, 
And peradventure  to  The  Master  too  ; 

Nicolas  La    distance    qui   sépare   l'incrédulité   de   la  foi 

(20)  n'est  que  d'un  souffle,  celle  qui  sépare  le  cloute  de 

la  certitude  n'est  également  que  d'un  souffle; 
passons  donc  gaiement  cet  espace  précieux  d'un 
souffle,  car  notre  vie  aussi  n'est  séparé  (de  la  mort) 
que  par  l'espace  d'un  souffle. 


McCarthy 

(46) 


Only  a  breath  divides  faith  and  unfaith,  only  a 
breath  divides  belief  from  doubt.  Let  us  then 
make  merry  while  we  still  draw  breath,  for  only  a 
breath  divides  life  from  death. 


Whinfield      From  doubt  to  clear  assurance  is  a  breath, 
/24\  A  breath  from  infidelity  to  faith  ; 

do  1882)  ^n'  Prec'ous  breath  !  enjoy  it  while  you  may, 

'Tis  all  that  life  can  give,  and  then  comes  death. 


Garner  From  Faith  to  Disbelief  is  but  a  Breath, 

(Vlll.  10)      From  Doubt  to  Faith,  but  one,  the  Dervish  saith, 
Come  gaily  let  us  pass  our  fleeting  Days, — 
A  Little  While  then  cometh  the  Angel  Death. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm,  99 

Vom    Unglauben   zum    Glauben    hin    ist    nur    ein    Bodenstedt 
Hauch,  (i.  38) 

Wie  vom  Zweifel  bis  zur  Gevvissheit  auch  : 

So  mach'  uns  der  winzige  Sprung  keine  Not, 

Trennt  doch  nur  ein  Hauch  selbst  das  Leben  vom 
Tod! 

In  the  second  edition  of  FitzGerald,  the  third  line  of  XLIX 
and  first  of  L  (numbered  respectively  L  and  LI  )  read  :  — 
A  Hair,  they  say,  divides  the  False  and  True. 
In  line  3  of  stanza  L,  a  dash  replaces  the  comma  of  Edi- 
tion II. 

In  Edition  IV  the  last  line  of  XLIX  reads  :  — 

And  upon  what,  prithee  does  life  depend? 

Whinfield,  109,  reads  :  — 

Once  and  again  my  soul  did  me  implore, 
To  teach  her,  if  I  might,  the  heavenly  lore  ; 

I  bade  her  learn  the  Alif  -cell  by  heart. 
Who  knows  that  letter  well  ?ieed  learn  no  more. 

(Alif  kafat,  —  "  the  One.  that  is  God,  is  enough."   See  Hafiz, 
Ode  416  :  "  He  who  knows  the  One  knows  all.") 

So  in  the  Gulshan-i-Râz  :  — 

Even  as  the  point  can  change  'Ain  '  into  'Chain,' 
The  essence  to  the  cloud,  so  fancy  conjures  up 
Nature  from  the  ethereal  essence. 

A  dot  or  diacritical  mark  over  the  initial  of  a  Persian  word 
changes  its  pronunciation.  Ain  becomes  ghain,  and  'ab'ir,  am- 
bergris, perfume,  assumes  a  resemblance  to  ghubAr,  dust  or 
vapor. 

See  also  Appendix  XIII  to  Rubâ'iy  XXXIII. 


ioo         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     Whose  secret  Presence,  through  Creation's  veins 
(LI)  Running  Quicksilver-like  eludes  your  pains  ; 

1889  Taking  all  shapes  from  Mäh  to  Mâhi  ;  and 

They  change  and  perish  all — but  He  remains  ; 

(Lii  )         A  moment  guess 'd —  then  back  behind  the  Fold 
1889  I/nmerst  of  Darkness  round  the  Drama  rolVd 

Which,  for  the  Pastime  of  Eternity, 
He  doth  Himself  contrive,  enact,  behold. 

Nicolas  Tantôt     tu     es     caché,     ne     te     manifestant    à 

(443)  personne;  tantôt  tu  te  découvres  dans  toutes  les 
choses  créées.  C'est  pour  toi-même  sans  doute  et 
pour  ton  plaisir  que  tu  produis  ces  merveilleux 
effets,  car  tu  es  à  la  fois  et  l'essence  du  spectacle 
qu'on  voit  et  ton  propre  spectateur. 

McCarthy  Now  thou  art  hidden,  known  of  none,  now  thou 

(346)  art  displayed  in  all  created  things.      It  is  for  thy 

own  delight  that   thou  performest  these  wonders, 
being  at  once  the  sport  and  the  spectator. 


Whinfield      Now  in  thick  clouds  Thy  face  Thou  dost  immerse, 
(475)  And  now  display  it  in  this  universe; 

(244,  18S2)  Thou  the  spectator,  Thou  the  spectacle, 

Sole  to  Thyself  Thy  glories  dost  rehearse. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  ioi 

At  times  Thou  art  concealed,  and  then  anon  Garner 

Thy  subtle  Essence  castest  Thou  upon  (|X-  2) 

All  Things  Existent  '  twixt  the  Earth  and  Moon; 
Thou  art  the  Player  and  the  Looker-on. 

Bald  verhüllst  Du  den  Augen  der  Menschen  Dich    Bodenstedt 
ganz,  (*• 8) 

Zeigst  bald    Dich    in  Bildern  der    Schöpfung  voll 
Glanz. 

Für  Dich  selbst   schaffst    Du  Alles   an  Wundern 
so  reich, 

Bist    Inhalt  des  Schauspiels,    Zuschauer  zugleich. 

Bald    verhüllt    und    jedem     Blicke    unerreichbar   Von  Schack 

waltest  du,  (172) 

Bald  auch  in  der  Schöpfung  tausend  Bildern  dich 

entfaltest  du, 
Und  es  scheint,  dass  nur  zur  Kurzweil  all  das  für 

dich  selber  ist, 
Da  du  selbst  das  Schauspiel  und  auch  selber  der 

Beschauer  bist. 


In  second  and  third  editions  (1868  and  1872)  does  instead 
ol  doth.  In  Edition  II  a  comma  separates  running  and 
Quicksilver-like. 

See  Appendix  XVII. 


io2  Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     But  if  in  vain,  down  on  the  stubborn  fioor 

(LIII.)         Of  Earth,  and  tip  to  Heaven's  unopening  Door, 
18S9  You  gaze  To-day,  while  You   are   You  —  how 

then 
To-morrow,  You  when  shall  be  You  no  more  ? 

(Liv.)         But  if  in  vain,  down  on  the  stubborn  floor 
,863  Of  Earth,  and  up  to  Heav'n's  unopening  Door, 

You    gaze  To-day,  while   You   are    You  —  how 
then 
To-morrow,  when  You  shall  be  You  no  more  ? 

Nicolas  Si  le  cœur  humain  avait  une  connaissance  exacte 

(49)  des  secrets  de  la  vie,    il  connaîtrait   également,  à 

l'article  de  la  mort,  les  secrets  de  Dieu.  Si  aujour- 
d'hui que  tu  es  avec  toi-même  tu  ne  sais  rien,  que 
sauras-tu  demain  quand  tu  seras  sorti  de  ce  toi- 
même  ? 


McCarthy  if   the  human  heart   could  know  the  secrets  of 

(69)  life,  it  would  know  too,  knowing  death,  the  secrets 

of   God.     If   to-day,  when  you  are  with    yourself, 

you  know  nothing,  what  shall  you  know  to-morrow, 

when  you  have  passed  from  yourself  ? 


Whinfleld      if  the  heart  knew  life's  secrets  here  below, 

(52)  At  death  't  would  know  God's  secrets  too,  I  trow  ; 

But,  if  you  know  naught  here,  while  still  your- 
self, 
To-morrow,  stripped  of  self,  what  can  you  know  ? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  103 

Durchschaute     das    Herz     das     Geheimnis      des  Bodenstedt 

Lebens,  (IV.  2) 

So    erforscht'    es   den   Tod   und   auch    Gott  nicht 

vergebens. 
Kannst  Du  heute,  noch  ganz  bei  Dir  selbst  nichts 

gewahren, 
Was  wirst  Du  morgen,  wenn  ganz  Dir  entfremdet, 

erfahren  ? 

Begriffe  dieses    Leben  nur  von  Grund  aus    unser   Von  Schack 
Geist,  (23) 

Wohl  würd'  er  die  Geheimnisse  des  Todes  auch 
erkunden  ; 
Doch    wenn   du   heute,   da    du   noch   bei    Sinnen 
bist,  nichts  weisst, 
Was  wirst   du  morgen  wissen,  wenn   die  Sinne 
dir  geschwunden? 


FitzGerald  apparently  derived  Rubâiyât  XLII  and  LUI  from 
the  same  original. 

In  Whinfield,  2S  (18S2),  read,  earth's  secrets,  heaven's 
secrets. 

See  Rubâ'iy  XLII  and  Appendix  XVIII. 


iü4  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Waste  not  your  /lour,  nor  in  the  vain  pursuit 
(LIV.)        Qf  This  and  That  endeavour  and  dispute  ; 
1889  Better  be  jocund  with  the  fruitful  Grape, 

Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter,  Fruit. 

(XXXIX)      How  long,  how  long,  in  infinite  Pursuit 
l859  Of  This  and  That  endeavour  and  dispute  ? 

Better  be  merry  with  the  fruitful  Grape, 
Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter,  Fruit. 

Nicolas  Jusques  h  quand  ces  arguments  sur  les  cinq  et 

(4*4  les    quatre,    ô   échanson  ?     En    comprendre    un,    ô 

échanson  !  est  aussi  difficile  que  d'en  saisir  cent 
mille.  Nous  sommes  tous  de  terre,  ô  échanson  • 
accorde  la  harpe;  nous  sommes  tous  de  vent, 
apporte  du  vin,  ô  échanson  ! 

McCarthy  How  long   will   these  wrangle    on    the  five    and 

(328)         four,  O  cup-bearer!     It    is  as  hard  to  understand 

one    as  one  hundred  thousand,  O  cup-bearer  ;  vvc 

are  but  earth,  so  tune  the  lute,  O  cup-bearer  ;  we 

are  but  as  soft  air,  bring  wine,  O  cup-bearer  ! 


Whinfield      Reason  not  of  the  five,  nor  of  the  four, 

(453)  Be  their  dark  problems  one  or  many  score  ; 

We  are  but  earth,  go,  minstrel,  bring  the  lute, 
We  are  but  air,  bring  wine,  I  ask  no  more. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.         105 

How  long,  oh,  Sàki,  shall  we  ponder  o'er  Garner 

These  Fruitless  Arguments  of  Five  and  Four?  CVI.  5) 

Come,  Sâki,  tune  Thy  Harp,  we  all  are  Dust, 
A  Breath  of  Wind,  —  come,  till  one  Goblet  more. 

Wie  lange  noch  braucht  man  als  Argumente  Bodenstedt 

Unsre  fünf  Sinne  und  vier  Elemente  !  (1X  97) 

Eins  zu  begreifen,  ist  ganz  so  schwer, 

Als  ob  es  ein  Hunderttausend  war'. 
Wir  sind  Alle  nur  Staub,  das  bedenke 

Und  stimme  die  Harfe,  o  Schenke  ! 
Ein  Hauch  ist  unser  ganzes  Sein, 

Das  bedenke,  o  Schenke,  und  bring  mir  Wein! 

The  second  edition  (LVI,  1868)  of  FitzGerald  is  the  same 
as  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth,  except  in  the  third  line,  which 
reads  :  — 

Better  be  merry  with  the  fruitful  Grape. 

See  Appendix  XIX. 


io6         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     You    know,    my   Friends,    with    what    a   brave 
(LV.)  Carouse 

1889  I  made  a  Second  Marriage  in  my  house; 

Divorced  old  barren  Reason  from  my  Bed, 
And  took  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  to  Spouse. 

(XL.)         You  know,    my    Friends,    how   long   since    in   my 
1859  House 

For  a  new  Marriage  I  did  make  Carouse  : 
Divorced  old  barren  Reason  from  my  Bed, 

And  took  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  to  Spouse. 

Nicolas  Moi,   je  verserai   du   vin   dans    une    coupe    qui 

(1S1)         puisse    en    contenir   un    mèn.     Je    me    contenterai 

d'en  boire  deux  coupes  ;   mais  d'abord  je  divorcerai 

trois  fois  avec  la  religion  et   la  raison,  et  ensuite 

j'épouserai  la  fille  de  la  vigne. 


McCarthy 
(20) 


I  myself  will  pour  wine  into  a  cup  which  con- 
tai neth  a  full  measure.  Two  cups  thereof  will 
content  me,  but  I  will  immediately  three  times 
divorce  from  me  Religion  and  Reason,  and  wed 
the  Daughter  of  the  Vine. 


M.  K.  A   double-sized   beaker   to  measure    my  wine   I  '11 

take  ; 
Two  doses  to  match  my  settled  design  I  '11  take  ; 
With   the  first,  I'll  divorce  me  from  Faith  and 
from  Reason  quite, 
With  the   next,  a  new  bride  in   the  Child  of   the 
Vine  I  '11  take  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  107 

To  drain  a  gallon  beaker  I  design,  Whinfield 

Yea,   two  great    beakers,    brimmed    with    richest         (196) 
wine  ; 
Old  faith  and  reason  thrice  will  I  divorce, 
Then  take  to  wife  the  daughter  of  the  vine. 

To  Wisdom's  Daughter  I  was  one  time  wed,  Garner 

Thereafter  Fruitless  Dogma  shared  my  bed,  d.  26) 

Her  too  I  have  divorced  now  from  my  roof, 
And  ta'en  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  instead. 

Bringt  einen  Becher  mir,  so  gross,  class  man  ihn   Von  Schack 
schwer  nur  hebe  !  (I53) 

Wenn    man   ihn  auch    nur   zweimal  leert,    zum 

Rausch  genügen  muss  es  schon. 
Zuerst  will  ich  von  der  Vernunft  mich  scheiden 
und  der  Religion, 
Und   mich   vermählen    dann   sofort     dem   holden 
Kind  der  Rebe. 

The  second  edition  of  FitzGerald  (LVIII,  1S6S)  differs  from 
the  first  only  in  the  first  line.     It  begins  : — 

You  know,  my  Friends,  hoju  bravely  in  my  House 
For  a  new  Marriage  I  did  make  Carouse. 
Whinfield,  106  (1882),  reads  :  — 

To  drain  two  beakers  is  my  fixed  design, 

Two  double  beakers  brimmed  with  heady  ivine  ; 

Old  faith  and  reason  thus  will  I  divorce. 
And  take  to  wife  the  daughter  of  the  vine. 
The  Gulshan-i-Rdz  says  :  — 

He  who  by  reason  doth  content  his  soul 
Much  store  of  trouble  for  that  soul  provides. 
See  Appendix  XX. 


îoS         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     For  "  Is  "  and  "  Is-not  "  though  with  Rule  and 
(lvi.)  Line 

18S9         And  "  Up-and-down  "  by  Logic  I  define, 
Of  all  that  one  should  care  to  fathom,  I 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but  —  Wine. 


(XLr.)        For  "Is"  and  "Is-not"  though  with  Rule   and 
1859  Line, 

And  "  Up-and-down  "  without,  I  could  define,14 

I  yet  in  all  I  only  cared  to  know, 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but  —  Wine. 


Nicolas 

(165) 


Jusques  à  quand  passeras-tu  ta  vie  à  t'adorer 
toi-même  ou  à  chercher  la  cause  du  néant  et  de 
l'être  ?  Bois  du  vin,  car  une  vie  qui  est  suivie  de 
la  mort,  il  vaut  mieux  la  passer,  soit  dans  le 
sommeil,  soit  dans  l'ivresse. 


McCarthy  How   long   wilt   thou  expend   thy  existence    on 

(276)  vam   Self-love,  or  in   searching  for  the  source   of 

being   and  of  not   being?     Drink  wine,    then,  for 

since    thy  life    must    be   followed    by  death,    thou 

hadst  best  pass  it  in  sleep  or  in  drunkenness. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         109 

Why  spend  life  in  vainglorious  essay 
All  Being  and  Non-being  to  survey? 

Since  Death  is  ever  pressing  at  your  heels, 
'T  is  best  to  drink  or  dream  your  life  away. 


Whinfield 
(183) 


Wie  lange  willst  Du  noch  leben, 

In  selbstvergötterndem  Streben, 
Im  Wahn,  es  müsse  Deine  Pflicht  sein, 

Den  Grund  zu  suchen  von  Sein  und  Nichtsein? 
Trink  Wein  !  Ein  Leben,  das  eilt  zum  Tod, 

Folgt  nur  dem  einen  klugen  Gebot, 
Sich  glücklich  bis  an's  Ende  zu  bringen, 

Mit  Wein  und  sonstigen  guten  Dingen. 


Bodènstedt 

(IV.  8) 


The  Quaritch  editions  of  FitzGerald  have  a  comma  at  the 
end  of  the  first  line. 
See  Appendix  XXI. 


19 


no         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Ah,  but  my  Computations,  People  say, 

(LVll.)        Reduced  the  Year  to  better  reckoning  ?  —  Nay, 
1889  >  y  2i,as  oniy  striking  from  the  Calendar 

Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday. 

(XXXVII.)     Ah,  fill  the  Cup  :  —  what  boots  it  to  repeat 
1859  How  Time  is  slipping  underneath  our  Feet  : 

Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday, 
Why  fret  about  them  if  To-day  be  sweet  ! 

(Lix.)        Ah,  but  my  Computations  people  say, 
1868  Have  squared  the  Year  to  Human  Compass,  eh  ? 

If  so,  by  striking  from  the  Calendar 
Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday. 


Nicolas 

(42) 


McCarthy 

(-7) 


Puisque  la  roue  céleste  et  le  destin  ne  t'ont 
jamais  été  favorables,  que  t'importe  de  compter 
sept  cieux  ou  de  croire  qu'il  en  existe  huit  ?  Il  y  a 
(je  le  répète)  deux  jours  dont  je  ne  me  suis  jamais 
soucié,  c'est  le  jour  qui  n'est  pas  venu  et  celui  qui 
est  passé. 

Since  the  heavenly  wheel  and  fate  have  never 
been  your  friends,  why  should  you  reck  whether 
the  heavens  be  seven  or  eight?  There  are,  I  say 
again,  two  clays  for  which  I  take  no  thought,  the 
day  which  has  not  come,  and  the  day  which  has 
eone  for  ever. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  tit 

Behold  the  tricks  this  wheeling  dome  doth  play  !       Whinfield 
And  earth  laid  bare  of  old  friends  torn  away!  (386) 

O  live  this  present  moment,  which  is  thine 
Seek  not  a  morrow,  mourn  not  yesterday  ! 

Wenn  das  launische  Schicksal  Dich  nicht  liebt,  Bodenstedt 

Was   kümmert's  Dich    denn,    wieviel    Himmel   es         (V.  4) 

giebt  ? 
Ich  mache  mir  um  die  Zeit  keinen  Gram, 
Die  schon  verging  und  noch  nicht  kam. 

Da,    nach    deinem    Wunsch    zu    leben,    dir    das  Von  Schack 

Schicksal  keine  Macht  giebt  (lS7) 

Kann  dich 's  kümmern,  ob  es  sieben  Himmel  oder 

ob  es  acht  giebt? 
Was  in  diesem  Augenblicke  da  ist,  das  nur  geht 

dich  an, 
Nicht    was     ehedem    gewesen     oder     was     noch 

kommen  kann. 


Persian  astrologers  believed  that  there  were  seven  heavens, 
in  the  seventh  of  which,  according  to  Mohammed,  Paradise  was 
situated,  with  its  stream  of  wine  and  its  bevies  of  lovely  dark- 
eyed  houris.  Certain  wise  men  argued  that  there  were  eight 
heavens. 

Whinfield,  3S6,  is  not  strictly  admissible  here,  except  for  the 
thought  ;  see  Whinfield,  26,  p.  59. 

See  also  Rubâiyât  XXIX,  XXX,  and  LXXIV. 


ii2         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     And  lately,  by  the  Tavern  Door  agape, 

(LVill.)       Came  shining  through  the  Dicsk  an  Angel  Shape 
1889  Bearing  a  Vessel  on  his  Shoulder  ;  and 

He  bid  me  taste  of  it  j  and  "'twas  —  the  Grape  ! 

(XLii.)       And  lately,  by  the  Tavern  Door  agape, 
1859  Came  stealing  through  the  Dusk  an  Angel  Shape 

Bearing  a  Vessel  on  his  Shoulder  ;  and 
He  bid  me  taste  of  it  ;  and  'twas  —  the  Grape  ! 

Nicolas  Hier  au  soir,  dans  la  taverne,  cet  objet  de  mon 

(321)  cœur  qui  me  ravit  l'âme  (Dieu)  me   présenta  une 

coupe  avec  an  air  ravissant  de  sincérité  et  de  désir 
de  me  complaire,  et  m'invita  à  boire.  "Non,  lui 
dis-je,  je  ne  boirai  pas.  —  Bois,  me  répondit-il, 
pour  l'amour  de  mon  cœur." 

McCarthy  Last  night  in  the  tavern  my  familiar  friend  held 

(36°)  out  the  cup  and  bade  me  drink  of  it.  "  I  will  not 
drink,"  I  said,  and  he  replied,  "  Drink  for  my 
love's  sake." 


Whinfield      Last  night  that  idol  who  enchants  my  heart, 
With  true  desire  to  elevate  my  heart, 

Gave  me  his  cup  to  drink;  when  I  refused, 
He  said,  "  O  drink  to  gratify  my  heart  !  " 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         113 

Meine  Herzensräuberin  und  holde  Betäuberin  Bodenstedt 

Reichte  mir  gestern  einen  Becher  mit  Wein  (VIII.  46) 

Und  bat  mich  zu  trinken  ;  ich  sagte  "  Nein." 

Doch  bei  ihrer  Liebe  beschworen 

Gab  ich  mich  bald  verloren. 


M.  K.  calls  FitzGerald's  version,  "  A  tolerably  close  para- 
phrase of  the  Persian  words,  but  conveying  a  totally  different 
sense. 

See  Appendix  XXII. 


ii4         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald      The  Grape  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 

(Lix.)         -phe  Two-and-Seventy  jarring  Sects  confute  : 
1889  jyie  sovereign  Alchemist  that  in  a  trice 

Lifers  leaden  metal  into  Gold  transmute  : 

(XLiii.)       The  Grape  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 
1859  The  Two-and-Seventy  jarring  Sects  n  confute: 

The  subtle  Alchemist  that  in  a  Trice 
Life's  leaden  Metal  into  Gold  transmute. 

Nicolas  Bois    du  vin,  car  c'est  lui  qui  mettra   un  terme 

(*79)  aux  inquiétudes  de  ton  cœur;  il  te  délivrera  de  tes 

méditations  sur  les  soixante  et  douze  nations.  Ne 
t'abstiens  pas  de  cette  alchimie,  car,  si  tu  en  bois 
un  mèn  seulement,  elle  détruira  en  toi  mille 
infirmités. 


McCarthy 

(2S9) 


Drink  wine,  for  therein  thou  shalt  find  forget- 
fulness  for  all  thy  anxieties,  and  it  will  deliver  thee 
from  thy  meditations  on  the  problems  of  the  earth. 
Renounce  not  this  alchemy,  for  if  thou  drinkest 
but  one  measure  thereof,  it  will  scatter  to  the  winds 
thy  endless  cares. 


Whinfield      Drink  wine  to  root  up  metaphysic  weeds, 
(J94)         And  tangle  of  the  two-and-seventy  creeds  ; 
Do  not  forswear  that  wondrous  alchemy, 
'T  will  turn  to  sold,  and  cure  a  thousand  needs. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  115 


Garner 


Come,  fill  a  sparkling  Cup  and  from  the  Creed 

Of  One  and  All  the  Seventy  Sects  be  freed,  CI-  27) 

And  to  the  Riddle  of  Futurity, 
The  Answer  in  the  Flowing  Goblet  read. 

Trink  Wein,  um  Deines  Herzens  Unruh    zu  bän-  Bodenstedt 
digen.  (IX.  80) 

Und  den  Streit   der  zwei    und    siebzig    Secten  zu 
endigen. 

Enthalte  Dich  nicht  dieser  Alchymie  : 

Mit  einem  Kruge  tausend  Gebrechen  heilt  sie. 


FitzGerald  says  in  bis  note  (19):  — "The  Seventy-two 
Religions  supposed  to  divide  the  World,  including  Islamism, 
as  some  think  :  but  others  not."  The  note  to  Edition  I  (17) 
was  even  shorter,  and  ran  :  "  The  72  Sects  into  which  Islamism 
so  soon  split." 

Nicolas  says  :  "  Les  Persans,  en  general,  entendent  par 
cette  expression  :  Les  soixante  et  douze  nations,  tous  les 
peuples  qui  habitent  le  globe  terrestre  et  qui  sont  tous  divisés 
par  des  dogmes  diverses,  croyant  chacun  en  conscience  pos- 
séder exclusivement  la  vérité." 

Muhammad  is  quoted  by  YVhinfïeld  as  saying,  "  My  people 
shall  be  divided  into  seventy-three  sects,  all  of  which,  save  one, 
shall  have  their  portion  in  the  fire.  (Pocock,  Specimen  210)." 
The  fourth  line  of  Whinfield,   105  (1SS2),  reads  :  — 

'Twill  turn  to  gold  and  furnish  all  your  needs. 

There  are  also  slight  variations  in  punctuation.  A  men  is 
a  Persian  weight,  according  to  Nicolas,  of  about  six  pounds 
{environ  six  livres). 

See  Appendix  XXII. 


1 1 6         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     The  mighty  Mahmihl,  Allah-breathing  Lord, 

That  all  the  misbelieving  and  black  Horde 
18S9 

Of  Fears  and  Sorrows  that  infest  the  Soul 

Scatters  before  him  with  his  whirlwind  Siuord. 

(XLiv.)       The  mighty  Mahmdd,  the  victorious  Lord, 
1859  That  all  the  misbelieving  and  black  Horde  18 

Of  Fears  and  Sorrows  that  infest  the  Soul 
Scatters  and  slays  with  his  enchanted  Sword. 

Whinfield      Drink  wine  !  and  then  as  Mahmud  thou  wilt  reign, 
^1I9'  And  hear  a  music  passing  David's  strain: 

Think  not  of  past  or  future,  seize  to-day, 
Then  all  thy  life  will  not  be  lived  in  vain. 

Von  Shack     Ein  Weiterobrer  Mahmud  ist  der  Rebensaft  ; 
(43)  \vie  oft  sind  nicht  die  glaubenslosen  Horden 

Der  Angst  und  Sorgen  seiner  Heldenkraft 
Erlegen  und  in  Flucht  getrieben  worden  ? 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  1 1  7 

"  The  here-mentioned  World  Conquerer,"  says  Von  Schack, 
who  may  possibly  have  translated  this  stanza  from  FitzGerald, 
"  is  Mahmud  the  Gaznewid  (997  to  1030  of  our  era),  celebrated 
for  his  mighty  warlike  expeditions  to  India.  During  the  last 
one  he  destroyed  the  great  temple  of  Sumnat  and  carried  back 
with  him  the  famous  Sandalwood  doors  as  trophies  to  his  resi- 
dence at  Gazna.     Firdüsi  lived  at  his  court.1' 

FitzGerald  explains  the  first  line  thus  in  his  note  (20)  :  — 
"Alluding  to  Sultan  Mahmiid's  Conquest  of  India  and  its 
dark  people." 

In  the  first  edition  the  note  reads  :  — 

(l^)  This  alludes  to  Sultan  Mahmiid's  Conquest  of  India 
and  its  swarthy  idolaters. 

The  forty-fifth  quatrain  of  FitzGerald's  first  edition  was 
omitted  from  those  that  succeeded  :  — 

But  leave  the  Wise  to  wrangle,  and  with  me 
The  Quarrel  of  the  Universe  let  be  : 
And,  in  some  corner  of  the  Hubbub  coucht, 
Make  Ga?ne  of  that  which  makes  as  much  of  Thee. 

Which  may  be  compared  with  Whinfield,  367  :  — 
Chief  of  old  friends  !  hearken  to  what  I  say, 
Let  not  heaven'' s  treacherous  wheel  your  heart  dismay  ; 

But  rest  contented  in  your  humble  nook, 
And  watch  the  games  that  wheel  is  wont  to  play. 


1 1 S  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 

FitzO-erald     Why,  be  this  Juice  the  growth  of  God,  who  dare 
(I. xi.)        Blaspheme  the  twisted  tendril  as  a  Snare  ? 
jgsg  A  Blessing,  we  should  use  it,  should  we  not  ? 

And  if  a  Curse  —  why,  then,  Who  set  it  there? 

Nicolas  Tu   as  mis  en  nous  une  passion   irrésistible  (ce 

U26)  qui  équivaut  à  un  ordre  de  toi),  et  d'un  autre  côté 

tu  nous  défends  de  nous  y  livrer.  Les  pauvres 
humains  sont  dans  un  embarras  extrême  entre  cet 
ordre  et  cette  défense,  car  c'est  comme  tu  ordon- 
nais d'incliner  la  coupe  et  défendais  d'en  verser  le 
contenu. 

McCarthy  Thou  hast  planted  in  our  hearts   an  irresistible 

(g4)  desire,  and  at  the  same  time    thou  hast  forbidden 

us  to  satisfy  it.  In  what  a  strait  dost  thou  find 
thyself,  oh,  unhappy  man,  between  this  law  of  thy 
nature,  and  this  commandment  ?  It  is  as  if  thou 
wert  ordered  to  turn  down  the  cup,  without  spilling 
the  contents  thereof. 

Whinfield      He  binds  us  in  resistless  Nature's  chain, 
(265)  And  yet  bids  us  our  natures  to  restrain  ; 

Between  these  counter  rules  we  stand  perplexed, 
"  Hold  the  jar  slant,  but  all  the  wine  retain." 


Garner  Oh    Thou   hast     made   us     Slaves     to     Passion's 

(vin.  4)  Sway, — 

Although  our  Master  we  must  ne'er  obey  ;  — 

But  tell  me  this,  how  can  we  tip  the  Jar, 
And  still  not  let  its  Contents  run  away  ? 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  119 

Du  gabst  uns  Triebe,  die  uns  gewaltsam  treiben,        Bodenstedt 

Und  befiehlt  uns,  wir  sollen  enthaltsam  bleiben.  (I.  18) 

Durch  diesen  zwiespältigen  Zustand 

Kommen  wir  Armen  zu  keinem  Ruhstand. 
Es  ist  uns  in  unsrer  Not 

Als  heischte  Dein  Gebot, 
Einen  vollen  Weinkrug  umzukehren 

Und  doch  ihm,  auszufliessen,  zu  wehren. 

Gewalt'ge  Leidenschaften  hat  uns  Gott  zuerst  in's   Von  Schack 

Herz  gepflanzt,  (i37) 

Dann  sagt  er  uns  :  "Ich  strafe  dich,  wenn  du  sie 

nicht  bemeistern  kannst." 
Wir  Armen  !    Spricht  ein  Vater  wohl  :   "  die  Schale 

kehre  um,  mein  Kind  !  " 
Und  straft  sodann  das  Söhnchen,  wenn  der  Inhalt 

auf  den  Boden  rinnt  ? 


Whinfield,  144  (1882),  reads  :  — 

He  binds  us  fast  in  nature's  cogent  chain, 
And  yet  bids  us  our  natures  to  restrain  ; 

These  counter  precepts  how  can  we  obey? 
"  Hold  the  jar  slant,  but  yet  the  wine  retain" 

See  Appendix  XXIII. 


I20         Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 

FitzGerald    I  must  abjure  the  Balm  of  Life,  I  must, 

(LXii.)       Scared  by  some  After-reckoning  to? en  on  trust, 

1889 

Or  lured  with  Hope  of  some  Diviner  Drink, 

To  fill  the  Cup  —  when  crumbled  into  Dust  / 


(LXIV.)       1  must  abjure  the  Balm  of  Life,  I  must, 

Scared  by  some  after  reckoning  ta'en  on  trust, 
Or  lured  with  Hope  of  some  Diviner  Drink, 
When  the  frail  Cup  is  crumbled  into  Dust  ! 


Nicolas 
(169) 


On  prétend  qu'il  existe  un  paradis  où  sont  des 
houris,  où  coule  le  Kooucer,  où  se  trouve  du  vin 
limpide,  du  miel,  du  sucre  ;  oh  !  remplis  vite  une 
coupe  de  vin  et  mets-la  moi  en  main,  car  une 
jouissance  présente  vaut  mille  jouissances  futures  ! 


McCarthy 
(267) 


Folk  talk  of  Paradise  where  houris  dwell,  where 
the  heavenly  river  flows,  where  wine  and  honey 
and  sugar  abound  !  Bah  !  Fill  me  quick  a  cup  of 
wine  and  put  it  in  my  hand,  for  a  present  pleasure 
is  worth  a  thousand  future  joys. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  1 2 1 

Im    Paradies   verheisst    ihr    mir    schwarzäugiger   Von  Schack 
Huris  Küsse,  (97) 

Von  Wein  und  Honig,  sagt  ihr,  sei  dort  voll  das 
Bett  der  Flüsse 
Schnell  her  das    Glas!  Mehr  wert  ist  mir   ein 
jetziger  Genuss, 

Als  eine  ganze  Million  zukünftiger  Genüsse. 


The  Kooucer  or  Kausar  is  Muhammad's  River  of  Paradise, 
the  water  of  which  is  sweeter  than  honey,  whiter  than  milk. 
It  is  mentioned  in  Whinfield,  459. 

Behold,  where'er  we  turn  our  ravished  eyes, 
Sweet  verdure  springs,  and  crystal  Kausars  rise  ; 

And  plains,  once  bare  as  hell,  now  smile  as  heaven  : 
Enjoy  this  heaven  with  maids  of  Paradise .' 

See  Rubâ'iy  XIII  and  Appendix  XXIV. 


122  Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Oh  threats  of  Hell  and  Hopes  of  Paradise  ! 
(LXill.)       Qne  thing  at  least  is  certain  —  This  Life  flies  ; 
1889  Qne  thing  is  certain  and  the  rest  is  Lies  ; 

The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies. 


(xxvi.)      Oh,  come  with  old  Khayyam,  and  leave  the  Wise 
l859  To  talk  ;  one  thing  is  certain,  that  Life  flies  ; 

One  thing  is  certain,  and  the  Rest  is  Lies  ; 
The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies. 


Whinfield      Long  must  you  sleep  within  your  silent  tomb, 
(6°)  Apart  from  friends,  in  solitary  gloom; 

1882  Hark,  while  I  whisper  softly  in  your  ear, 

"  Never  again  may  withered  tulips  bloom." 


Drink  wine  !  long  must  you  sleep  within  the  tomb, 
Without  a  friend,  or  wife  to  cheer  your  gloom; 

Hear  what  I  say,  and  tell  it  not  again, 
"  Never  again  can  withered  tulips  bloom." 


#»'  Drink  !  for  thou  soon  shalt  sleep  within  the  tomb, 

Nor  friend  nor  foe  shall  break  the  eternal  gloom. 

Beware  !  and  tell  to  none  this  secret  dark,  — 
The  faded  rose  may  never  hope  to  bloom. 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  123 

Gestatte  den  Tagen  noch  den  Nächten  auf  Erden,    Von  Schack 
Dich  zu  betrüben!     Was  immer  du  treibst  und  (3^) 

thust, 

Bedenke,  dass  stets  von  Neuem  geboren  sie  werden, 
Indessen  auf  ewi£  du  dort  unten  ruhst  ! 


The  last  line  of  Rubd'iy  LXVI  in  the  second  edition  of 
FitzGerald  reads  :  — 

The  Flower  that  once  is  blown  for  ever  dies. 

Otherwise  it  is  the  same  as  that  numbered  LXIII  in  sub- 
sequent editions.  The  edition  of  186S  contained  a  quatrain 
numbered  XXXIII,  and  afterwards  omitted,  in  which  the  last 
line  is  identical  with  the  above  :  — 

Another  Voice,  when  I  am  sleeping,  cries, 

"  The  Flower  should  open  ivith  the  Morning  skies,1' 

And  a  retreating  Whisper,  as  I  wake  — 
"  The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies." 

See  Rubâ'iy  VII,  p.  14,  and  Appendix  XXV. 


124         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGeraid    Strange,  is  it  not .'  that  of  the  myriads  who 
(LXiv.)      Before  us  passed  the  door  of  J  darkness  through, 
1889  A\-(it  one  returns  to  tell  us  of  the  Road, 

Which  to  discover  we  must  travel  too. 

Nicolas  De  tous  ceux  qui  ont  pris  le  long  chemin,  quel 

(217)  est   celui    qui    en    est     revenu  pour  que   je   lui   en 

demande   des    nouvelles?      Ô   ami!    garde^toi    de 

rien  laisser  en  vue  d'un  espoir  quelconque  dans  ce 

mesquin  sérail,  car,  sache-le,  tu  n'y  reviendras  pas. 

McCarthy  Of  all  who  have  set  out  upon  the  long  journey, 

(160)  who  has  come  back,  that  I  may  ask  him  tidings  ? 

My  friends,  take  heed  to  let  naught  go  by  in  the 

hope  of  hopes  for,  be  sure,  you  will  not  come  back 

again. 

Whinfield      Who  e'er  returned  of  all  that  went  before, 
(258)  To  tell  of  that  long  road  they  travel  o'er? 

Leave  naught  undone  of  what  you  have  to  do, 
For  when  you  go,  you  will  return  no  more. 

Garner  Of  Those  who  have  the  "  Long  Road  "  travelled 

(II.  7)  o'er, 

Not  One  will  bring  Thee  News  of  it,  before 

Thou   too  shalt  go,  and  heed   Thee  that  Thou 
leavest 
Without  Regret,  Thou  shalt  return  no  more. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  125 

Much  have  I  wandered  over  vale  and  plain,  #(>9) 

Through  many  climes,  in  joy,  in  grief  and  pain, 

Yet  never  heard  men  say  "  The  traveller 
Who  passed  this  way  has  now  returned  again." 

Wer  hat  je,  der  den  langen  Weg  gemacht  Bodenstedt 

In's  Jenseits,  Kunde  davon  heimgebracht?  (IV.  14) 

Verlass    Dich,    Freund,  hier  auf   kein   Hoffnungs- 
glück, 
Denn,     wenn    Du     scheidest,    kommst    Du    nicht 
zurück. 

The  last  two  lines  of  Whinfiekl,  141  (1SS2),  read  :  — 
Set  not  your  heart  on  earth,  you  too  must  go 
And,  when  you  go,  you  will  return  no  more. 

See  Appendix  XXVI. 


126         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald      The  Revelations  of  Devout  and  Learn',! 
(i. \v.)        Who  rose  before  us,  and  as  Prophets  burned, 
l839  . 1  re  all  but  Stories,  whù  I/,  awoke  pom  Sleep 

They  told  their  comrades,  and  to  Sleep  returned. 

Nicolas  Ceux  qui  sont  doues  de  sci<  vertu,  qui 

(464)  par  leur  profond  savoir  sont  devenus  le  flambeau 
de  leurs  disciples,  ceux  là  mêmes  n'ont  pas  fait  un 
pas  en  dehors  de  cette  nuit  profonde.  Ils  ont 
débité  quelques  fables  et  sonl  rentrés  dans  le  som- 
meil (de  la  m< 

M.  k.  Those  who  were  paragons  of  Worth  and  Km. 

Whose  greatness  torchlike  lights  their  fellow  men. 
Out  of  this  night  profound  no  path   have   tr.u  i  d 
for  us  ;  — 
Thej  \e    babbled   dreams,   then  fall'n    to    sleep 

!  11    ! 

Whinfield      They  who  by  genius,  and  by  power  of  brain, 
(209)  The  rank  of  man's  enlighteners  attain. 

Not  even  they  emerge  from  this  dark  night, 
But  tell  their  dreams,  and  fall  asleep  again. 


Garner 
(VI.  8) 


And  of  Them  All  endowed  with  Wit  and  Learning, 
And   styled    by  Men    'bright    Torch    of    Wisdom 
burning,' 
Not  One  has  passed  a  Step  beyond  the  Dark- 
ness, 
They  mused  a  while,  then  left,  to  Sleep  returning. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  127 

Selbst  der  Tugend  und  Wahrheit  erhabenste  Mei    Bodenstedt 

ster,  (X.  40) 

Die  der  Welt  geleuchtet  als  Führer  der  Geister, 
Vermochten  keinen  Tritt  aus  der  Nacht  zu  thun, 
Erzählten  uns  Fabeln  und  gingen  zu  ruhn. 

Selbst    Jene,  die  es  durch  Wissen  und  Geist  und   Von  Schack 

Tugend  Allen  zuvorgethan,  (162) 

Die  leuchtend    ihren    Schülern    voran   geschritten 

auf  dieser  Lebensbahn, 
Nicht   lüften   konnten   den    Schleier  sie,    der  aller 

Sterblichen  Auge  bedeckt  ; 
Sie  haben   einige    Fabeln   erzählt   und    dann  zum 

Schlummer  sich  hingestreckt. 

The  last  line  in  the  second  and  third  editions  of  FitzGerald 

reads  :  — 

They  told  their  fellows,  and  to  Sleep  returned. 

Whinfield,  116  (1S82),  reads  :  — 

The  shining  lights  of  this  our  age,  who  keep 
Ablaze  the  torch  of  art  and  science  deep. 

Never  see  day,  but,  whelmed  in  endless  night, 
Recount  their  dreams  and  get  them  back  to  sleep. 

M.  K.  says  that  FitzGerald's  version  is  "not  so  good  as  the 
original,  which  is  the  last  stanza  of  the  Persian  text  as 
given  by  Nicolas." 

See  Appendix  XXVI. 


128         Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     /  sent  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible, 
(lxvi.)      Some  letter  ofthat  After-life  to  spell  : 

1889  And  by  and  by  my  Soul  return 'd  to  »n\ 

And  answer \i  "  /  Myself  am  Jlear'n  and  Hell:" 

(LXXI.)        I  sent  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible 
1868  Some  letter  of  that  After-life  to  spell  : 

And  after  many  days  my  Soul  retum'd 
And  said,  'Behold,  Myself  am  Heav'n  and  Hell.' 

Whinfield      Pen,  tablet,  heaven  and  hell  I  looked  to  see 
(i.4)  Above  the  skies,  from  all  eternity  ; 

(68,  18S2)  At  last  the  master  sage  instructed  me, 

44  Pen,  tablet,  heaven  and  hell  are  all  in  thee." 

*('5)         Through  the  unknown  life's  first  dark  day  my  soul 
Did  seek  the  tablet  and  the  pen,  and  Paradise 
and  Hell. 
Then  read  the  teacher  from  his  mystic  scroll: 
Tablet   and   pen    are  in    thy    hand,   and  so    are 
Heaven  and  Hell. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  129 

Ein  jegliches  Herz,  das  die  Liebe  verklärt,  Bodenstedt 

Gleichviel  welcher  Glaube  die  Andacht  nährt,  (!■  30 

Hat  die  Leuchte  zum  Ziel  alles  Höchsten  gefunden, 
Hat  Himmel  und  Hölle  in  sich  überwunden. 

Erkunden  wollt'  ich,  wo  der  Garten  Eden  Von  Schack 

Und  wo  die  Hölle  sei,  der  Marterort;  (335) 

Da  hört'  ich  meinen  Meister  also  reden  : 
"  In  dir  sind  beide  ;  such  sie  dort  !  " 


Compare  the  "Bird  Parliament,"  FitzGerald's  version:  It 
is  the  symurgh,  or  "  Thirty  Birds,"  speaking  from  the  Centre 
of  the  Glory  :  — 

All  yon  have  been,  and  seen  and  done,  and  thought, 
Not  you  but  I,  have  seen  and  been  and  wrought  ; 
I  was  the  Sin  that  from  Myself  rebelPd  : 
I  the  Remorse  that  toward  Myself  '  compeWd 

Sin  and  Contrition  —  Retribution  owed, 
And  canceled  —  Pilgrim,  Pilgrimage  and  Road, 
Was  but  Myself  toward  Myself  :  and  Your 
Arrival  but  Myself  at  my  own  Door. 


i3o 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayydtn. 


FitzGerald     Heav'n  but  the  Vision  of fulfill '</  Desire, 
(Lxvii.)      And  Hell  the  Shadow  from  a  Soul  on  fire 
l8S  Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Ourselves, 

So  late  emerfcl from,  shall  so  soon  expire. 


Nicolas  L'univers   n'est   qu'un    point    de   notre   pauvre 

(90)  existence.     Le  Djéihoun  (Oxus)  n'est  qu'une  faible 

trace  de  nos  larmes  mêlées  de  sang;  l'enfer  n'est 
qu'une  étincelle  des  peines  inutiles  que  nous  nous 
donnons.  Le  paradis  ne  consiste  qu'en  un  instant 
de  repos  dont  nous  jouissons  quelque-fois  ici-bas. 


McCarthy  This  world  is  but  a  hair's  breadth  in  our  wretched 

(98)  life.     The  soul  but  the  faint  trace  of  our  blended 

tears  and  blood.     Hell  is  but  a  shadow  of  the  vain 

toils  we  take  upon  ourselves.     Paradise  is  but  the 

moment's  rest  we  sometimes  taste  here. 


Whinfield      Skies  like  a  zone  our  weary  lives  enclose, 

(9,)  And  from  our  tear-stained  eyes  a  Jihun  flows  ; 

Hell  is  a  fire  enkindled  of  our  griefs  ; 
Heaven   but   a  moment's  peace,   stolen  from    our 
woes. 


Garner 

(VIII.  12) 


This  Universe  is  but  a  Mantle  worn, 

The  Jehun  from  our  flooding  Tears  is  born, 

And  Hell  a  fire  ignited  by  our  Griefs, 
And  Heaven  a  respite  from  our  Life  forlorn. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  131 

Nur  als  Gürtel  schlingt  das  Weltall  sich  um  unser    Bodenstedt 

dürftig  Sein,  (in.  IO) 

Eine     Spur    nur     ist   die   Oxus     unsrer    blutigen 

Thränenpein. 
Nur     ein    Funke    ist    die   Hölle     selbsterzeugten 

Qualgeschicks, 
Und   der   Himmel   nur  der   Segen   eines   ruhigen 

Augenblicks. 

Das  Schicksal  ist  ein  fester  Gurt,  der  unser  armes   Von  Schack 

Sein  umschliesst,  (26g) 

Mehr  blut'ge  Thränen  weinen  wir,  als  Wasser  in 

dem  Oxus  fliesst  ; 
Die  Hölle  ist  ein  Funken  nur  der  Qual,  in  der  das 

Herz  uns  brennt, 
Das  Paradies  nur  ein  Moment  der  Ruhe,  der  uns 

wird  gegönnt. 

The  second  line   in    FitzGerald's  second   edition  (LXXII, 

186S)  reads:  — 

And  Hell  the  Shadow  of  a  Soul  on  fire. 

Whinfield,  41  (18S2),  reads  :  — 

Time  is  one  point  in  our  long  weary  years 
Jihi'in  a  drop  beside  our  flood  of  tears, 
Hell  but  afire  enkindled  of  our  griefs, 
And  heaven  a  moment's  peace  stolen  from  our  fears. 

So  the  Gulshan-i-Raz  :  — 

Thou  art  in  slumber  wrapped,  and  all  thou  seest 
Is  but  a  vision  in  His  \ma.%e  formed. 
When  on  the  last  dread  day  thou  shalt  arvake 
Then  thou  shalt  knoiv  that  this  was  but  a  dream. 

The  chorus  mourning  for  the  woes  of  Prometheus  sing  :  — 

SaKpvfflffTaKTOv  dir'  ucrffuv  padivûv  8'  iï/3o/j.eva  peos  irapeiàv 

poTiois  erf-y^a  Tra.ya.7s  ' 

Shedding  from  tender  eyes,  a  trickling  river  of  tears,  I  wet 
my  cheek  with  fountains  of  rain  (Prom.  Des.  399). 


132  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald      We  are  no  other  than  a  moving  row 
(Lxviii.)      Of  Magic  Shadow-shapes  that  come  and  go 
1889  Round  with  the  Sun-illumin'd  Lantern  held 

In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show; 

(XLVI.)       For  in  and  out,  above,  about,  below, 
1859         'Tis  nothing  but  a  Magic  Shadow-show, 

Play'd  in  a  Box  whose  Candle  is  the  Sun, 
Round  which  we  Phantom  Figures  come  and  go.19 

(LXXIII.)     We  are  no  other  than  a  moving  row 
1868  Of  visionary  Shapes  that  come  and  go 

Round  with  this  Sun-illumin'd  Lantern  held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show. 

Nicolas  Cette    voûte    des     cieux,     sous     laquelle    nous 

(2&7)  sommes  la  proie  du  vertige,  nous  pouvons,  par  la 

pensée,  l'assimiler  à  une  lanterne.  L'univers  est 
cette  lanterne.  Le  soleil  y  représente  le  foyer  de 
la  lumière,  et  nous,  semblables  à  ces  images  (dont 
la  lanterne  est  ornée),  nous  y  demeurons  dans  la 
stupéfaction. 

McCarthy  This  vault  of  heaven  under  which  we  move  in  a 

(230)  vain  shadow,  maybe  likened  unto  a  lantern;    the 

sun  is  the  focus,  and  we,  like  the  figures,  live  there 
in  amazement. 


M.  K. 


This  vault  of  Heaven  at  which  we  gaze  astounded, 
May  by  a  painted  lantern  be  expounded  : 

The  light's  the  Sun,  the  lantern  is  the  World, 
And  We  the  figures  whirling  dazed  around  it! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  133 

This  wheel  of  heaven,  which  makes  us  all  afraid,      Whinfield 
I  liken  to  a  lamp's  revolving  shade,  (31Q) 

The  sun  the  candlestick,  the  earth  the  shade, 
And  men  the  trembling  forms  thereon  portrayed. 

A  Turning  Magic  Lantern  show  this  World,  Garner 

Around  the  Sun  as  Candle  swiftly  whirled,  (IX.  4) 

While  mortals  are  but  Phantom  Figures  traced 
Upon  the  Shade,  forever  Onward  hurled. 

Dieses  Weltall,  mit  dem   wir   uns   schwindelnd       Bodenstedt 

drehen,  (X.  39) 

Ist  wie  eine  Laterne  anzusehen, 
Drin  die  Sonne  als  Licht  brennt,  in  bunten  Reigen, 
Uns  Trugbilder  —  unseresgleichen  —  zu  zeigen. 

Für  eine  magische    Laterne  ist  diese  ganze  Welt  Von  Schack 
zu  halten,  (,) 

In  welcher  wir  voll  Schwindel  leben; 
Die  Sonne  hängt  darin  als  Lampe  ;  die  Bilder  aber 
und  Gestalten 
Sind  wir,  die  d'ran  vorüberschweben. 

Nous    devons    considérer   comme    une   lanterne     Garcin  de 
magique    ce    monde  mobile    où    nous  vivons  dans        Tassy 
l'étourdissement.     Le  soleil  en  est  la  lampe,  et  le  '  57 

monde   la   lanterne   où   nous  passons    comme   les 
figures  qu'on  y  montre. 

The  first  line  of  Whinfield,  165  (1882),  reads  :  — 

These  circling  heavens,  which  make  us  so  dismayed. 
See  Appendix  XXVII. 


134         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 


FitzGerald     But  helpless  Pieces  of  the  Game  Jit  plays 
(LXix.)       Upon  this  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and  Days  ; 
i88q  Hither  and  thither  moves,  and  chei  6s,  and 

And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  lays. 


(XI,  IX.) 

1859 


Nicolas 


McCarthy 

(6.) 


M.K. 


Whinfield 
(270) 


'Tis  all  a  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and  Days 

Where  Destiny  with  Men  for  Pieces  plays: 

Hither  and  thither  moves,  and  mates,  and  slays. 
And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  lays. 

Nous  ne  sommes  ici-bas  que  des  poupées  dont 
la  roue  des  cieux  s'amuse,  ceci  est  une  veritd  et 
non  un  métaphore.  Nous  sommes,  en  effet,  des 
jouets  sur  ce  damier  des  êtres,  que  nous  quittons 
enfin  pour  entrer  un  à  un  dans  le  cercueil  du  néant. 

Here,  below*,  we  are  naught  but  puppets  for  the 
diversion  of  the  wheel  of  the  heavens.  This  is 
indeed  a  truth,  and  no  simile.  We  truly  are  but 
pieces  on  this  chessboard  of  humanity,  which  in 
the  end  we  leave,  only  to  enter,  one  by  one,  into  the 
grave  of  Nothingness. 

But  puppets  are  we  in  Fate's  puppet-show  — 
No  figure  of  speech  is  this,  but  in  truth  't  is  so  ! 
On  the  draughtboard  of  Life  we  are  shuffled  to 
and  fro, 
Then  one  by  one  to  the  box  of  Nothing  go  ! 

We  are  but  chessmen,  destined,  it  is  plain, 
That  great  chess  player,  Heaven,  to  entertain  ; 
It  moves  us  on  life's  chess-board  to  and  fro, 
And  then  in  death's  box  shuts  [us]  up  again. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  135 

We  all  are  Puppets  of  the  Sky,  we  run  -       Garner 

As  wills  the  Player  till  the  Game  is  done,  (IV.  2) 

And  when  The  Player  wearies  of  the  Sport, 
He  throws  us  into  Darkness  One  by  One. 

Wir  sind  hier  nichts  als  ein  Spielzeug  des  Himmels    Bodenstedt 

und  der  Natur  ;  ,v      -. 

Dies  ist  als  Wahrheit  gemeint,  nicht  metaphorisch 

nur. 
Wir  gehn,  wie  die  Steine  im  Bretspiel,  durch  vieler 

Spieler  Hände, 
Und  werden  bei  Seite  geworfen  in's  Nichts,  wenn 

das  Spiel  zu  Ende. 

Nur  Puppen,  mit  denen  das  Schicksal  spielt,  sind   Von  Schack 
hier  auf  Erden  wir,  (,44) 

Erkennen    muss    ein    Jeder    das,    der    klareren 
Gesichts  ; 
Figuren   auf   dem    Schachbrett   gleich    geschoben 
werden  wir, 
Dann  nimmt  man  uns  hinweg  und  legt  uns  in  den 
Sarg  des  Nichts. 


See  Appendix,  XXVIII. 

The  first  line  of  Fitzgerald,  LXXIV  (second  edition,  1868), 
reads  :  — 

Impotent  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays. 

Whinfield,  148  (18S2),  begins  :  — 

We  are  but  chessmen,  who  to  move  are  fain, 
Just  as  the  great  Chessplayer  doth  ordain. 
The  missing  us  in  the  last  line  here  appears. 


136         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald      The  Ball  no  question  makes  of  Ayes  and  h 
(LXX.)       But  Here  or  There  as  strikes  the  Player  goes; 
l889  And  He  that  toss'd  you  down  into  the  J-'ield, 

He  knows  about  it  all —  he  knows  —  HE  knows  ! 


(L.) 

1859 


The  Ball  no  Question  makes  of  Ayes  and  Noes, 
But  Right  or  Left  as  strikes  the  Player  goes; 

And  He  that  toss'd  Thee  down  into  the  Field, 
He  knows  about  it  all  —  he  knows  —  HE  knows  ! 20 


Whinfield     Man,  like  a  ball,  hither  and  thither  goes, 
(40O         As  fate's  resistless  bat  directs  the  blows 

But  He,  who  gives  thee  up  to  this  rude  sport 
He  knows  what  drives  thee,  yea,  He  knows,  He 
knows. 


Garner  Oh  thou  who  art  driven  like  a  ball,  by  the  bat  of 

(MS.,  1895)     Fate,  go  to  the  right  or  left  —  drink  wine  and  say 

nothing,  for  that  One  who  flung  thee  into  the  run 

and  search  (mêlée)  he  knows,  he  knows,  he  knows, 

he—. 


Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam.  137 

O  du  !  vom  Loos  getrieben  wie  von  Schlägel  Ballen,         von 

Der  du  in  Lust  des  Wein's  und  der  Huris  gefallen,    Hammer- 

Purgstall 
Du  bist  gefallen  auf  des  Ewigen  Geheiss  ;  igiS 

Er  ist  es,  der  es  weiss,  der's  weiss,  der's  weiss,  der's 

weiss. 


The  second  line  in  the  second  edition  of  Fitzgerald  (LXXV, 
1S6S)  ha=,  no  commas. 

He  says  in  his  note  (22):   "A  very  mysterious  Line  in  the 
Original  :  — 

O  dànad  O  dânad  O  dànad  O 

breaking  off  something  like  our  Wood-pigeon's  Note,  which  she 
is  said  to  take  up  just  where  she  left  off." 

In  the  note  (20)  of  the  1S59  edition  the  mysterious  line  is  :  — 

U  dânad  U  dânad  U dânad  U — 
Whinfield,  204  (1S82),  reads  :  — 

Blame  not  this  ball,  impelled  by  bafs  hard  blows, 
That  now  to  right  and  now  to  left  it  goes  , 

That  One  who  wields  the  bat  and  smites  the  strokes 
He  knows  what  drives  thee,  yea  He  knows,  He  knows. 


138         Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     /'//,•  Moving  Finger  writes;  and,  having  writ, 
(I. XXI  )        Moves  on  :  nor  all  your  I'itty  nor  Wit 
1889 


Shall  lure  it  bat  k  to  cancel  half  a  Line, 
Norallyour  Tears  washout  a  Wordofit. 


(Li.)        The  Moving  Finger  writes;  and,  having  writ, 
1859  Moves  on  :    nor  all  thy  Piety  nor  Wit 

Shall  hire  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  Line, 
Nor  all  thy  Tears  wash  out  a  Word  of  it. 

Nicolas  O  mon  cœur!  puisque  le  fond  même  des  choses 

(ji6)         de  ce  monde  n'est  qu'une  fiction,  pourquoi  t'aven- 

turer  ainsi   dans  un   gouffre   infini   des   chagrins? 

Confie-toi  au  destin,  supporte  le  mal,  car  ce  que  le 

pinceau  a  tracé  ne  sera  pas  effacé  pour  toi. 

McCarthy  O  heart,  my  heart,  since  the  very  basis  of  all  this 

(iS9)  world's  gear  is  but  a  fable,  why  do  you  adventure 

in  such  an  infinite  abyss  of  sorrows?  Trust  thy- 
self to  Fate,  uphold  the  evil,  for  what  the  pencil 
has  traced  will  not  be  effaced  for  you. 

M.  K.  Since  life  has,  love  !  no  true  reality. 

Why  let  its  coil  of  cares  a  trouble  be  ? 

Yield  thee  to  Fate,  whatever  of  pain  it  bring  : 
The  Pen  will  never  unwrite  its  writ  for  thee  ! 


Whinfield      O  heart  !  this  world  is  but  a  fleeting  show, 

(257)         why  should  its  empty  griefs  distress  thee  so  ? 
Bow  down,  and  bear  thy  fate,  the  eternal  pen 
Will  not  unwrite  its  roll  for  thee,  I  trow  ! 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  139 

Yes,  since  whate'er  the  Pen  of  Fate  has  traced  Garner 

For  Tears  of  Man  will  never  be  erased,  (iv.4) 

Support  thy  Ills,  do  not  bemoan  thy  Lot, 
Let  all  of  Fate's  Decrees  be  bravely  faced. 

O  Herz,  da  die  Welt  nichts  als  Schatten  und  Schein,    Bodenstedt 
Warum  quälst  Du  Dich  ab  in  unendlicher  Pein  ?  (V.  17) 

Mit  ruhigem  Sinn  geh'  dem  Shicksal  entgegen, 
Und  glaub  nicht,  es  andre  sich  Deinetwegen  ! 

O  mein  Herz  !    da  dieses  ganze  Weltall    Lug  nur  Von  Schack 

ist  und  Trug,  (,9I) 

Was  dich  nur  so  viel  mit  Kummer  plagst  du  ?    Sei's 

damit  genug  ! 
Unterwirf  dich  dem  Geschicke  !     Denn,  wie  schwer 

du  auch  bedrängt, 
Deinethalb  verändern  wird  es  nichts  von  dem,  was 

dir  verhängt. 

In  the  second  (1S68)  edition  of  Fitzgerald  the  above  qua- 
train was  followed  by  one  numbered  LXXV1I  and  omitted  in 
subsequent  editions.      Its  prototype  is  not  known  :  — 
For  tct  Philosopher  and  Doctor  preach 
Of  what  they  will,   and  what  they  will  not —  each 

Is  but  one  Link  in  an  eternal  Chain. 
That  none  can  slip,  nor  break,  nor  over-reach. 
In  Whinfield,  140  (18S2),  line  2  begins:  — 
Why  let  its  empty  griefs 
and  line  3  begins  :  — 

Bear  up  and  face  thy  fate  ; 
See  Appendix  XXIX. 


140         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid    And  that  inverted Bowl  they  call  the  Skw 
(LXXII.)       W hereunder  crawling  cooped  we  live  and  die, 

»889  Lift  not  your  hands  to  It  for  help  — for  It 

As  im  pott  ntly  moves  as  you  or  I . 


(LH.)        And  that  inverted  Bowl  we  call  The  Sky. 
1859         Whereunder  crawling  coop't  we  live  and  die, 
Lift  not  thy  hands  to  //  for  help— for  It 
Rolls  impotently  on  .is  Thou  or  I. 

Nicolas  N'impute  pas  à  la   roue  des  deux  tout   le  bien  et 

(95)  tout  le  mal  qui  sont  dans  l'homme,  toutes  Les  joies 
et  tous  les  chagrins  qui  nous  viennent  du  destin  ; 
car  cette  roue,  ami,  est  mille  fois  plus  embarrassée 

que  toi  dans  la  voie  de  l'amour  (divin). 

McCarthy  Ascribe  not  to  the  wheel  of  heaven  the  woe  and 

(39)  weal    which  are  the  portion  of  man,  the  thousand 

joys  and  thousand  sorrows  which  Fate  awards  us, 
for  this  wheel,  my  friend,  revolves  more  helpless 
than  thyself  along  the  highway  of  the  heavenly 
love. 

Whinfield    The  good  and  evil  with  man's  nature  blent, 

(96)  The   weal  and   woe    that   heaven's    decrees   have 

sent, — 
Impute  them  not  to  motions  of  the  skies, — 
Skies  than  thyself  ten  times  more  impotent. 


Rubâiyâi  of  Omar  Khayyam.         141 

Ah  do  not  think  the  Skies  our  Souls  enthrall,  Garner 

The  Griefs,  the  Joys  that  to  us  Mortals  fall, 

Come  not  from  Thence,  nor  are  they  known  to 
Fate, 
Heaven  is  far  more  helpless  than  us  all. 

Glaubt  nicht,  dass  Alles  vom  Himmel  bestimmt,        Bodenstedt 

Was  Gutes  und  Böses  im  Menschen  glimmt,  (V.  8) 

Was  das  Herz  betrübt  und  das  Herz  erhellt, 

Je  nachdem  es  dem  launischen  Schicksal  gefällt. 
Das  Himmelsrad  kreist  ohne  Ruh 

Und  ist  weit  schlimmer  daran  als  Du 
Im  Wirrsal  und  Getriebe 

Auf  der  Bahn  der  ewigen  Liebe. 

Klag  nicht  den  Himmel  dafür  an,  dass  Qual  Von  Schack 

Und  Lust  und  Weh  der  Liebe  dich  durchtoben,  (83) 

Denn  so  verliebt  wie  du,  nur  tausendmal 
Hülfioser,  taumelt  er  dahin  dort  oben. 

The  first  line  in  FitzGerald's  second  edition  (1S6S)  and  in 
the   first   draught  of   Edition  III  is  the  same  as  in  the  first 
edition.     The  last  line  in  Editions  II  and  III  reads  :  — 
As  impotently  rolls  as  you  or  I. 

Whinfield,  45  (1882),  reads  (line  1)  :  thy  nature  blent. 
See  Appendix.  XXX. 


142         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGeraid     With  Earth's  first  Clay  Tiny  did  the  Last  Man 
(Lxxiu.,1  knead, 

1889         And  there  of  the  Last  Harvest  sow1  d  the  Seed: 
.  lud  the  first  Morning  of  Creation  wrote 
What  the  Last  Dawn  of  Reckoning  shall  read. 

(Lin.)       With  Earth's  first  Clav  They  did  the  Last    Man's 
1859  knead, 

And  then  of  the  Last  II  \  M  the  Si 

Yea,  the  first  Morning  of  Creation  wrote 
What  the  Last  Dawn  of  Reckoning  shall  read. 


Nicolas 

(3>) 


Les  choses  existantes  étaient  déjà  marquées 
sur  la  tablette  de  la  création.  Le  pinceau  (de 
l'univers)  est  sans  cesse  absent  du  bien  et  du  mal. 
Dieu  a  imprimé  au  destin  ce  qui  devait  y  être 
imprimé  ;  les  efforts  que  nous  faisons  s'en  vont 
donc  en  pure  perte. 

All  things  that  be  were  long  since  marked  upon 
the  tablet  of  creation.  Heaven's  pencil  has  naught 
to  do  with  good  or  evil.  God  set  on  Fate  its 
necessary  seal;  and  all  our  efforts  are  but  a  vain 
striving. 

Whinfield      'T  was  writ  at  first,  whatever  was  to  be, 
(35)  By  pen,  unheeding  human  misery, 

Yea,  writ  upon  the  tablet  once  for  all, 
To  murmur  or  resist  is  vanity. 


McCarthy 
(86) 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         143 

Urewig  vorgezeichnet  ist  der  Dinge  Kern;  Bodenstedt 

Der  Griffel  bleibt  dem  Guten  wie  dem  Bösen  fern  ;         (v-  0 
Was  Gott   als   Schicksal   vorbestimmt,  muss   sich 

vollenden, 
Mag,  wie  er  will,  der  eitle  Mensch   sich  drehn  und 
wenden. 

Whinfield,  20  (1882),  reads  :  — 

The  "tablet  "  all  our  fortunes  doth  contain, 
Writ  by  the  " pen  "  that  heeds  not  bliss  nor  bane  ; 

'  T  was  writ  at  first  whatever  was  to  be, 
To  grieve  or  strive  is  labour  all  in  vain. 


144  Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     YESTERDAY  This  Day's  Madness  did  prepare  ; 

(Lxxiv.)     Tomorrow's  Silence,  Triumph,  or  Despair  : 
1889  Drink  !  for  you  know  not  whence  you  catlte,  nor 

10  h  y  : 
Drink  .'  for  you  know  not  why  you  go,  nor  where. 

Nicolas  Sois  sur  tes  gardes,  ami,  car  tu  seras  séparé  de 

Os)         tun  âme  :  tu  iras  derrière  le  rideau  des  secrets  de 

Dieu.      Bois  du   vin,  car  tu   ne  sais  pas  d'où   tu  es 

venu;  sois  dans  L'allégresse,  car  tu  ne  sais  pas  où 

tu  iras. 

McCarthy  Be    on  your  guard,   my   friend,   for    you   will    be 

(180)  sundered  from  your  soul,  you  will  pass  behind  the 

curtain  of  the  secrets  of  heaven.     Drink  wine,  for 

you  know  not  whence  you   come.     Be  merry,  for 

you  know  not  where  you  go. 

Whinfield      Make  haste  !  soon  must  you  quit  this  life  below, 
(s7)  And  pass  the  veil,  and  Allah's  secrets  know  ; 

Make  haste  to  take  your  pleasure  while  you  may, 
You  wot  not  whence  you  come,  nor  whither  go. 


Garner 

(VIII.  7) 


Ah  Brother,  but  a  little  while,  and  Thou  shalt  find 
Thy  Lasting  Home  the  '  Secret  Veil  '  behind  ;  — 
Rejoice    Thy    Heart      and     banish     Grief,     for 
know,  — 
Thy  source,  Thy  Goal,  has  never  been  defined. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         145 

Hab'  Acht  !  Deine  Seele  wird  Dir  entschweben        Bodenstedt 
Und  der  Schleier  der  Ewigkeit  sich  vor  Dir  heben.       (IX-  62> 
Trink  Wein,  denn  Du  weisst  nicht  und  kannst  nicht 

verstehen, 
Woher  Du  gekommen,  wohin  Du  wirst  gehen. 

Einst   am   Ende  wird  vom  Leibe  dir  der  Tod  die   Von  Schack 

Seele  trennen,  (207) 

Das   Geheimnis     hinter  Gottes  Vorhang  wirst  du 

dann  erkennen  ; 
Doch   bis  dahin  zeche   tapfer,   denn,   wie   viel  du 

immer  spähst, 
Nicht   ergründest   du,  woher   kommst   und   nicht, 

wohin  du  gehst. 


Wliinfield,  40  (1882),  reads  :  — 

O  sott/,  so  soon  to  leave  this  coil  below, 

And  pass  the  dread  mysterious  curtain  through, 

Be  of  good  cheer,  and  joy  you  while  you  may, 
You  wot  not  whence  you  come,  nor  whither  go. 


146         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     I  tell  you  this  —  When,  started  from  the  Goal, 
(Lxxv.)      Over  the  flaming  shoulders  of  the  Foal 
1889  Of  Hear' n  Parwln  and  Mushtari  they  flung, 

hi  my  predestined  Plot  of  Dust  and  Soul 

(Lxxvi.)      The  Vine  had struck  a  fibre  :  which  about 
If  clings  my  Being  —  let  the  Dervish  flout  j 

Of  my  Base  metal  may  be  filed  a  Key, 
That  shall  unlock  the  Poorhe  howls  without. 

Nicolas  Le  jour  où  ce  coursier  céleste  d'étoiles  d'or  fut 

("°)  sellé,  où  hi  planète  de  Jupiter  et  les  Pléiades  furent 

crée'es,  dès  ce  jour  le  divan  du  destin  fixa  notre  sort. 

En  quoi  sommes-nous  coupables,  puisque  telle  est 

la  part  qu'on  nous  a  faite  ? 

McCarthy  The  day  when  the  celestial  steed  of  golden  stars 

(219)  was  saddled,  when  the  proud  planets  and  the  con- 

stellations were  created  —  from  that  same  day  the 
Divan  of  Fate  decreed  our  lot.  How  then  can  we 
be  held  accountable  since  ours  is  the  position  that 
has  been  made  for  us  ? 


Whinfield      When  Allah  yoked  the  coursers  of  the  sun, 
(mo)  And  launched  the  Pleiades  their  race  to  run, 

(77,  1S82)  My  lot  was  fixed  in  fate's  high  chancerv  : 

Then  why  blame  me  for  wrong  that  fate  has  done? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâtn.         147 

Seit  das  Himmelsross  läuft  auf  goldenen  Pfaden,  Bodenstedt 
Seit  Jupiter  leuchtet  zusammt  den  Plejaden,  (v-  ») 

War  unser  Schicksal  beschlossen  im  Himmelsrat,  — 
Ist's  unsre  Schuld,  wenn  wir  es  machen  zur  That? 

Am  Tag,  als  das  rollende    Rad  des  Himmels  zu  Von  Schack 

kreisen  begann,  (264) 

Als  Jupiter  seinen  Lauf  in  den  himmlischen  Gleisen 

begann, 
Ward  schon  mein  Wesen  und  Thun  vom  Schicksal 

festgestellt  ; 
Was  spricht   man  von  Strafe  mir  denn    in   einer 

anderen  Welt? 

FitzGerald's  note  (23)  is:  "  Parwin  and  Mushtari  —  The 
Pleiads  and  Jupiter."  For  his  1S59  version  and  further  pos- 
sibilities of  source,  see  p.  14S.     See  also  Appendix  XXXL 


14S         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid     I  tell  Thee  this —  When,  starting  from  the  Goal, 
(Liv.)  Over  the  shoulders  of  the  flaming  Fool 

«859         Of  Ufa-,' n  Parwin  and  Mushtara  theyflungf* 
In  my  predestined  Plot  of  Dust  and  Soul 


(LV.) 
«8S9 


The  Vine  had  struck  a  Fibre;  which  about 
If  clings  my  Being —  let  the  Sufi  flout; 
Of  my  Hast-  Metal  may  be  filed  a  Key, 
That  shall  unlock  the  Poor  he  howls  without. 


Nicolas  Oui,  jo  bois  du  vin,  et  quiconque  comme  moi  est 

clairvoyant  trouvera  que  cet  acte  est  insignifiant 
aux  yeux  de  la  Divinité.  De  toute  éternité  Dieu 
a  su  que  je  boirais  du  vin.  Si  je  n'en  buvais  pas 
sa  prescience  serait  pure  ignorance. 

McCarthy  Yea,  drink  wine,  for  by  him  who  is  far-seeing  as 

(6)  I  am,  it  will  be  found  that  in  the  eyes  of  the  Deity 

the  act  is  of  small  account.  God  from  all  time 
has  foreseen  that  I  should  drink  wine.  If  I  drank 
not  this  fore-knowledge  would  become  ignorance, 
or  I  should  not  fulfil  his  fore-knowledee. 


"Whinfleld      True  I  drink  wine,  like  every  man  of  sense, 
(■97)  For  I  know  Allah  will  not  take  offence; 

(107,  1882)  Before  time  was.  IK-  knew  that  I  should  drink, 

And  who  am  I  to  thwart  His  prescience? 


Hammer- 
Purgstall 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  149 

From  all  Eternity  't  was  known  to  One  Garner 

The  Sovereign  Wine  Cup  I  would  never  shun,  üv-  ») 

And  if  I  failed  to  drink  this  Purple  Juice,  — 
God's  boasted  Prescience  would  be  undone. 

Ich  trinke  Wein  und  jeder  trinket  der  gescheit,  Von 

Verzeihung  ist  dafür  mir  bey  dem  Herrn  bereit. 
Von  ewig  wusste  Gott,  ich  würde  trinken  Wein, 
Drum  wenn  ich  ihn  nicht  tränk,  Gott  müsst'  un- 
wissend seyn. 

Ja,  ich  trinke  gern  Wein,  und  wer  klaren  Gesichts  Bodenstedt 

ist  (VII.  2) 

Wie  ich,  der  weiss,  dass  vor  Gott  dies  Nichts  ist. 
Von  ewig  her  kennt  Gott  meine  Liebe  zum  Wein, 
Soll  ich  ihn  nun  nüchtern  des  Irrtums  zeihn? 

Ja,  ich  trinke  Wein  und  Jeder,  der  Verstand  hat,   Von  Sehack 

weiss  :  mein  Zechen  (287) 

Wird  mir  nicht  in  Gottes  Augen  angerechnet  als 

Verbrechen. 
Schon  von  Ewigkeit  her  wusste  Gott,  dass  Wein 

ich  trinken  würde, 
Tränk'  ich  also  nicht,  so  würd'  es  seiner  Weisheit 

widersprechen. 

See  pp.  146,  147,  and  Appendix  XXXI. 


150         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGeraid    And  this  I  know  :  whether  the  one  True  Light 
(LXXVII.)      Kindle  to  Love,  or  Wrath-consume  me  quite, 
»889  One  flash  of  It  -within  the  Tavern  caught 

Better  than  in  the  Temple  lost  outright. 

(LVI.)         And  this  I  know  :   whether  the  one  True  Light, 
1859         Kindle  to  Love,  or  Wrathconsume  me  quite, 

One  Glimpse  of  It  within  the  Tavern  caught 
Better  than  in  the  Temple  lost  outright 


Nicolas  J'aime  mieux  être  avec  toi  dans  la  taverne,  et  te 

(222)  dire  la  mes  secrètes  pensées,  que  d'aller  sans  toi 
faire  la  prière  au  mehrab.  Oui,  ô  Créateur  de  tout 
ce  qui  fut  et  de  tout  ce  qui  est!  telle  est  ma  foi, 
soit  que  tu  me  fasses  brûler,  soit  que  tu  m'accordes 
tes  faveurs. 

McCarthy  I  would  rather  in  the  tavern  with  thee  pour  out 

(87)  all  the  thoughts  of  my  heart,  than  without  thee  go 

and  make  my  prayer  unto  heaven.  This,  truly,  <) 
Creator  of  all  things  present  and  to  come,  is  my 
religion  ;  whether  thou  castest  me  into  the  flames, 
or  makest  me  glad  with  the  light  of  thy  countenance. 

Whinfleld      In  taverns  better  far  commune  with  Thee, 

(262)         Than  pray  in  mosques,  and  fail  Thy  face  to  see  ! 
O  first  and  last  of  all  Thy  creatures  Thou  ; 
'T  is  Thine  to  burn,  and  Thine  to  cherish  me  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.         151 

Ich  mag  lieber  mit  Dir  sein  in  der  Schenke,  Bodenstedt 

Um  Dir  Alles  zu  sagen,  was  ich  denke,  (I.  17) 

Als  ohne  Dich  vor  die  Kanzel  treten, 

In  gedankenlosen  Worten  zu  beten. 
Ja,  Du  Schöpfer  aller  Dinge 

Im  kreisenden  Weltenringe, 
So  will  ich  leben  und  sterben, 

Zum  Segen  oder  Verderben  ! 

Weit  lieber  mit  einer  Schönen  mag  ich  im  Wein-  Von  Schack 
haus  plaudern,  (i7) 

Als  ohne  sie  in  den  Moscheen  beten  ; 
Ja,  Gott,  ich  wage  sonder  zagen  und  zaudern 
Mit   diesem   Glaubensbekenntnis  vor   dich    zu 
treten. 

In  the  second  edition  of  FitzGerald  there  is  a  comma  after 
Light. 

Whinfield,  142  (1882),  reads:  — 

In  taverns  oft  Thy  presence  I  discern, 

When  dwellers  in  the  Mosque  Thy  absence  mourn  : 

O  Thou,  the  first,  the  last,  the  all  in  all, 
'  Tis  Thine  to  save  or,  an  Thou  list,  to  burn  ! 

See  Appendix  XXXII. 


152         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayydm, 

FitzGeraid     What  !  out  of  senseless  Nothing  to  provoke 
(Lxxviii.)    ../  conscious  Something  to  resent  the  yoke 
1889  oj  unpermitted  Pleasure^  under  pain 

(  )f Everlasting  J 'enai 'ties,  if  broke! 


Nicolas 
(99) 


Lorsque  Dieu  a  confectionné  la   boue   de  mon 
corps,  il  savait  quel  serait  le  résultat  de  mes 
Ce  n'est  pas  sans  ses  ordres  que  je  commets  les 
péchés  dont  je  suis  coupable;  dans  ic  cas,  pour- 
quoi au  jour  dernier  brûler  dans  l'enfer? 


McCarthy         When  God   built  up  my  body  out  of  clay,  he 

(112)         knew  beforehand  the  fruit  of  .ill  my  deeds.     It  is 

not  in  defiance  of  his  will  that   I   a  sinner  have 

sinned.      Why  then  tor  me  does  nether  hell  await? 


M.  K.  When  the  Supreme  my  body  made  of  clay, 

He  well  foreknew  the  part  that  I  should  play: 

Not  without  His  ordainment  have  I  sinned  ! 

Why  would  He  then  1  burn  at  Judgment-day? 


Whinfield      When  Allah  mixed  my  clay,  He  knew  full  well 
(100)  My  future  acts,  and  could  each  one  foretell  ; 

Without  His  will  no  act  of  mine  was  wrought  ; 
Is  it  then  just  to  punish  me  in  hell  ? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  153 

'Tvvas  Allah  who  engraved  upon  my  Clay  Garner 

The  Laws  I  was  thereafter  to  obey,  (IV-  5) 

And  will  He  cast  me  into  Raging  Fire, 
Because  my  Actions  answer  to  His  Sway  ? 

Als  mich  Gott  geknetet  aus  Thon,  auf  Erden  zu  Bodenstedt 
wandeln,  {Y.  10) 

Kannt'  er  genau  vorher  mein  Streben  und  Handeln. 

Da  ich  so  sündhaft  nur,  wie  Gott  es  wollte,  geraten, 

Warum  am  jüngsten  Tag  noch  in  der  Hölle  mich 
braten  ? 

Als  meinen  Körper  Gott  aus  Lehm  erschaffen  hat,    Von  Schack 
Musst'    im    Voraus    er   schon    mein    Thun    und         (213) 
Handeln  kennen  ; 
Es  war  auf  sein  Geheiss,  wenn  ich  was  Böses  that  ; 
Und   sollt'   ich   nun   dafür   noch   in   der    Hölle 
brennen  ? 

The  last  two  lines  of  Whinfield,  46  (1SS2),  read  :  — 
'  Twas  he  who  did  my  sins  predestinate, 
Yet  thinks  it  just  to  punish  me  in  hell. 

See  Appendix  XXXIII. 


i     i         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid     What!  from  his  helpless  Créature  be  repaid 
(lxxix  )     Pure  Gold/or  what  he  lent  him  dross-al 
Sue  for  a  Debt  he  never  did  contrat  t, 
And  cannot  answer  —  Oh  the  sorry  trade  ! 

(i. \\\v  i     what  :  from  his  helpless  Creature  be  repaid 
Pure  Gold  for  what  he  lent  us  dross-allay'd. 
Sue  for  a  I  >ebt  we  never  did  contrai  I 

And  cannot  answer       (  >h  the  sorry  trade  ! 


Nicolas 
(91) 


Je  suis  un  esclave  révolté:   où  est  ta  volonté? 

J "ai   le  cœur  noir  de  OÙ  est   ta  lumière,  où 

est  ton  contrôle?  Si  tu  n'accordes  le  paradis  qu'a 
notre  obéissance  (a  tes  lois),  c'est  une  dette  dont 
tu  t'acquittes,  et  dans  ce  cas  que  deviennent  ta 
bienveillance  et  ta  mise'ricorde  ? 


McCarthy 
(189) 


I  am  a  rebellious  slave:  where  is  thy  will  ?     My 
heart   is   defiled   with   sins:    where    is   thy  light? 

Where  is  thy  control?  If  thou  wilt  only  bestow 
paradise  on  those  who  obey  thy  laws  it  is  a  debt 
which  thou  payest,  and  where  then  is  thy  mercy? 


Whinfield      If  men  rebel,  what  of  omnipotence  ? 

(42)  And  if  they  wander,  what  of  providence  ? 

1882  If  heaven  be  earned  by  works,  as  wages  due, 

What  room  for  mercy  and  benevolence  ? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  155 

Ich  bin  ein  Sclav',  der  die  Kette  bricht  —  Bodenstedt 

Wo  ist  Dein  Wille?  er  hemmt  mich  nicht.  (I-  m) 

Mein  Herz  ist  schwarzer  Sünden  voll — 

Wo  ist  Dein  Licht,  das  mir  leuchten  soll? 
Kommt  nur  der  Fromme  in's  Himmelreich, 

So  kommt  der  Lohn  dem  Verdienste  gleich  — 
Wo  aber  bleibt  bei  unsrer  Schuld 

Dann  Dein  Erbarmen,  Deine  Huld  ? 

Ich  bin  ein    Sklave,   der  sich  empört;  wie  reimt  Von  Behack. 

sich  das  mit  deiner  Macht  ?  <288) 

Bist  du  das  Licht,  was  lassest  du  mich  verkommen 

in  der  Sündennacht  ? 
Und,  werden   zum   Paradies   allein  die    Frommen 

zugelassen, 
Wo  bleibt  da  deine   Barmherzigkeit?     Das  kann 

mein  Geist  nicht  fassen. 

In  FitzGerald's  second  edition  (1868)    the  above  quatrain  was 
followed  by  one  numbered  LXXXVI,  afterwards  expunged  :  - 
See  Rubâiyât  illustrative  of  LXXXVIII  (p.   170,   i),  and 
Appendix  XXXVIII. 

Nay,  but,  for  terror  of  his  wrathful  Face 
I  swear  I  will  not  call  Injustice  Grace  ; 

Not  one  Good  Fellow  of  the  Tavern  but 
Would  kick  so  poor  a  Coward  from  the  place. 

Whinfield,  93  (1883),  reads  :  — 

/  drown  in  sin  —  show  me  Thy  clemency  ! 
My  soul  is  dark  —  make  me  Thy  light  to  see  ! 

A  heaven  that  must  be  earned  by  painful  works, 
I  call  a  wage,  not  a  gift  fair  and  free. 


156         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

PitzGeraid    oh  Thou,  who  didst  with  pitfall  and  with  gin 
(i. xxx.)      Beset  the  Road  I  was  to  wander  in, 

Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestined  Evil  round 
Enmesh,  and  then  impute  my  Fall  to  Sin  ! 

(LVii.)       oil,  Thou,  who  didst  with  Pitfall  and  with  Gin 
l8S9         Beset  the  Road  I  was  to  wander  in, 

Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestination  round 
Enmesh  me,  and  impute  my  Fall  to  Sin? 

Nicolas  (D'un  côté)   tu   as  dresse"  deux  cent  embûches 

(390)  autour  de  nous;  (d'un  autre  côté)  tu  nous  dis: 
"Si  vous  y  mette/  le  pied  vous  serez  trappes  de 
mort."  C'est  toi  qui  tends  les  pièges,  et  quiconque 
y  tombe,  tu  l'interdis!  tu  lui  donnes  la  mort,  tu 
l'appelles  rebelle  ! 

McCarthy  Thou   settest   snares    around    us    manifold,   and 

(296)  sayest,  "  Death  to  ye,  if  ye  enter  therein."  Thou 
layest  the  lures  thyself,  and  then  givest  over  thy 
victim  to  doom. 


Whinfield    With  many  a  snare  Thou  dost  beset  my  way, 
(432)  And  threatenest,  if  I  fall  therein,  to  slay  ; 

Thy  rule  resistless  sways  the  world,  yet  Thou 
Imputest  sin,  when  I  do  but  obey. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  157 

Thou  hast  prepared  a  Way  with  many  a  Snare,         Garner 
And  set  with  many  a  Prize  to  lure  us  there,  (ir.  3) 

And  still,  Oh  God, 'tis  said,  Thou  wilt  not  spare, 
The  Man  whose  Foot-steps  stumble  unaware. 

Von  allen  Seiten  hast  Du  uns  mit  Schlingen  bedroht  Bodenstedt 
Und  sprichst:  wer  hineinfällt,  den  trifft  der  Tod.  01-  22) 

Du  suchst  selbst  uns  verlockende  Fallen  zu  stellen 
Und  strafst  dann,  wen  sie  verlockt,  als  Rebellen. 

Auf    der   einen    Seite    hundert    Fallen    hast    du   Von  Schack 
aufgestellt,  ('68) 

Auf  der  andern  drohst  mit  Tod  du  Jedem,  der  in 
eine  fällt. 

Sprich,  da  du  die  Schlingen  legtest,  denen  schwer 
der  Mensch  entgeht, 

Ziemt  es  dir,  ihn  zu  bestrafen,  wenn  er  just  hinein- 
gerät ? 


In  the  second  edition  of  FitzGerald  (LXXXVII,  1S6S),  the 
third  line  has  predestined  and  the  last  line  ends  with  a  question- 
mark. 

Whinfield,  224  (1882),  reads:  — 

Thou  dost  with  frequent  snare  beset  the  way 
The  pilgrim's  wandering  footsteps  to  betray, 

And  all  poor  wretches  tangled  in  thy  snares 
Dost  seize  as  prisoners  and  as  rebels  slay. 

See  Appendix  XXXIII. 

22 


1 5  S         Rubâiydt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 


FitzGerald     Oh  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make. 
And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake: 

For  all  the  Sin  wherewith  the  Face  of  Man 
Is  blacken1  d  —  Mart  s  forgiveness  give  —  and  take  ! 


(LXXXI.) 
1889 


(LViii.)      oil,  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make, 
,859  And  who  with  Eden  didst  devise  the  Snal 

For  all  the  Sin  wherewith  the  Face  of  Man 
Is  blacken'd,  .Man's   Forgiveness  give  —  and  take  ! 

(i. xxxviii)  oh  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make 
1868  And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  (lie  Snake: 

For  all  the  Sin  the  Face  "I  wret<  hed  Man 
Is  black   with  —  Man's    Forgiveness    give  —  and 

take! 

Nicolas  O  toi,  qui  connais  les  secrets  les  plus  cache's  an 

(236)  fond  du  cœur  de  chacun,  toi  qui  relèves  de  ta  main 

ceux  qui  tombent  dans  la  détresse,  donne-moi  la 
force  de  la  renonciation  et  agrée  mes  excuses.  6 
Dieu  !  toi  qui  donnes  cette  force  à  tous,  qui  agrées 
les  excuses  de  tous. 

McCarthy  O     thou     who     knowest     man's     most     hidden 

(49)  thoughts,  thou  who    upholdest    the  halt    with    thy 

hands,  give  me  strength  to  renounce,  and  heed  my 

pleading,  O  thou  who  art  the  strength  of  all  men, 

heed  my  pleading. 

Whinfield      O  Thou!  who  know'st  the  secret  thoughts  of  all, 
(276)  In  time  of  sorest  need  who  aidest  all, 

Grant  me  repentance,  and  accept  my  plea, 
O  Thou  who  dost  accept  the  pleas  of  all  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.         159 

O  Du,  der  aller  Menschen  Gedanken  und  Herzen  Bodenstedt 
geprüft,  (1. 20) 

Und  Jeglichen  wieder  erhebt,  der  durch  Schmer- 
zen geprüft  ; 

Dass     Du    Erhebung    auch    mir,    der   in    Sünden 
gefallen,  gewährst, 

Fleh'    ich    Dich    an,    o    Herr!    wie    Du    sie    Allen 
gewährst. 


Professor  Cowell,  Fitzgerald's  Persian  teacher,  is  quoted  by 
Mr.  William  Aldis  Wright  as  saying  in  regard  to  this  quatrain  : 

"  There  is  no  original  for  the  line  about  the  snake  :    I  have 
looked  for  it  in  vain  in  Nicolas;  but  I  have  always  supposed 
that  the  last  line  is  FitzGerald's  mistaken  version  of  quatrain 
236  in  Nicolas's  edition,  which  runs  thus  :  — 
O  thou  who  knowest  the  secrets  of  every  one's  mind. 
Who  çraspest  every  one's  hand  in  the  hour  of  weakness, 
O  God,  give  me  repentance  and  accept  my  excuses, 
O  thou  -who  givest  repentance   and  acee/iest  the  excuses  of 

every  one. 
Fitzgerald  mistook  the  meaning  of  giving  and  accepting  as  used 
here,  and  so  invented  the  last  line  out  of  his  own  mistake.     1 
wrote  to  him  about  it  when  I  was  in  Calcutta  ;  but  he  never 
cared  to  alter  it." 

Whinfield,  152  (18S2),  reads:  — 

O  Thou  who  hnow'st  the  hearts  of  one  and  all, 
In  hours  of  need  who  aidest  one  and  all, 

Grant  me  repentance,  and  accept  my  plea. 
Who  dost  accept  the  pleas  of  one  and  all. 

See  Appendix  XXXIV. 


i6o         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid    As  under  cover  of departing  Day 
(Lxxxn.)    Slunk  hunger-stricken  Ramazân  away, 
1889  Once  more  within  the  Potter's  house  alone 

I  stood,  surrounded  by  the  Shapes  of  Clav. 

(LXXXIII.)     Shapes  of  all  Sorts  and  Sices,  great  and  small, 
1889  That  stood  along  the  floor  and  by  the  wall  ; 

Ami  some  loquacious  vessels  were j  and  some 
Listen \t perhaps,  but  never  talked  at  all. 

(xc.)        And  once  again  there  gather'd  a  scarce  heard 
,868  Whisper  among  them;   as  it  were,  the  stirr'd 

Ashes  of  some  all  but  extinguish!  Tongue 
Which  mine  ears  kindled  into  living  Word. 

KÜZA    NAMA. 
(Lix.)        Listen  again.     One  Evening  at  the  Close 
,S59         Of  Ramazân,  ere  the  better  Moon  arose, 
In  that  old  Potter's  Shop  I  stood  alone 
With  the  clay  Population  round  in  Rows. 

Nicolas  Je  suis  entré  dans  l'atelier  d'un  potier.     J'y  ai  vu 

(431)         l'ouvrier  auprès  de  sa    roue,  activement  occupé  à 

mouler    des  goulots  et  des  anses    de  cruches,    les 

unes  formées  de  têtes  de  rois  et  les  autres  de  pieds 

de  mendiants. 


McCarthy  I  passed  into  the  potter's  house  of  clay,  and  saw 

(393)  the  craftsman  busy  at  his  wheel,  turning  out  pots 

and  jars  fashioned  from    the  heads  of  kings,  and 
the  feet  of  beggars. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  161 

It  chanced  into  a  potter's  shop  I  strayed,  Whinfield 

He  turned  his  wheel  and  deftly  plied  his  trade,  (466) 

And  out  of  monarchs'  heads,  and  beggars'  feet, 
Fair  heads  and  handles  for  his  pitchers  made  ! 

I  chanced  a  Potter  at  his  Work  to  meet,  Garner 

While  Heads  and  Handles  for  his  Vessels  neat,  (vu.  3) 

Upon  his  swiftly  turning  wheel  he  shaped;  — 
From    Mouldering 
Feet. 


Einen  Töpfer  hab'  ich  beim  Werke  gesehen  Bodenstedt 

Den  Krügen  Hälse  und  Henkel  zu  drehen  ;  (X.  17) 

Er  nahm  den  Stoff  zu  den  Thongeschöpfen 
Aus  Bettlerfüssen  und  Königsköpfen. 

Den  Töpfer  in  seiner  Werkstatt  zu  grüssen,  Von  Schack 

Heut  ging  ich  und  fand  ihn  bei'm  Formen  von  (49) 

Töpfen  ; 

Er  machte  die  Rundung  aus  Bettlerfüssen, 
Den  Henkel  aber  aus  Königsköpfen. 

Kuza-Naïna  means  "  the  Book  of  Pots."  See  Rubâ'iy 
LXXXVII;  see  also  Appendices  XIV,  XXXV,  and  XXXVII. 
Whinfield,  240  (1SS2),  begins  :  — 

Last  night  into  a  potter's  shop  I  strayed, 

Who  turned  his  wheel,  etc. 


IÖ2 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Said  one  among  them  —  "  Surely  not  in  rain 
(lxxxiv.)    «  My  substance  of  the  common  Earth  was  to1  en 
"  And  to  this  Figure  moulded,  to  be  broke, 
"  Or  trampled  back  to  shapeless  Earth  again" 

(I. XI.)        Then  said  another  —  "  Surely  not  in  vain 
«859         ••  My  Substance  from  the  common  Earth  was  ta'en, 
"That  He  who  subtly  wrought  me  into  Shape 
"  Should  stamp  me  back  to  common  Earth  again." 

(XCI.)        Said  one  among  them  —  "  Surely  not  in  vain 
1868         '•  My  Substance  from  the  common  Earth  was  ta'en, 
"That  He  who  subtly  wrought  me  Into  Shape 
"Should    stamp     me     back    to    shapeless     Earth 
again  ?  " 

Nicolas  Lorsque    mon     âme    et  la    tienne     nous   aurons 

(349)         quittés,  on  placera   une   paire  de  briques  sur  ma 

tombe  et  la  tienne.     Puis,  pour  couvrir  les  tombes 

des  autres  avec  d'autres  briques,  dans  le  moule  du 

briquetier  on  jettera  ma  poussière  et  la  tienne. 


McCarthy  When  my  soul  and  thine  have  flitted,  they  will 

(363)  place  a  couple  of  bricks  upon  my  grave  and  thine. 
Then  to  make  bricks  for  other  tombs  they  will 
send  to  the  kiln  my  dust  and  thine. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  163 

When  life  has  fled,  and  we  rest  in  the  tomb,  "Whinfield 

They  '11  place  a  pair  of  bricks  to  mark  our  tomb  ;  (391  ) 

And,  a  while  after,  mould  our  dust  to  bricks, 
To  furnish  forth  some  other  person's  tomb! 

Wenn   Dir  Deine  Seele  genommen  wird  und  mir   Bodenstedt 
meine,  (vm.  59) 

Legt  man  auf  Dein  und  mein  Grab  ein  Par  Steine. 
Und  später,  auch  andere  Gräber  mit  Steinen  zu 
decken, 

Nimmt  man  unsern  Staub  und  zermalmt  gar  unsre 
Gebeine. 

Bald,  beraubt  des  Lebensbaumes  werden  wir  dort   "Von  Schack 

unten  ruh'n,  (6) 

Bald  mit  Ziegeln  decken  wird  man  dein  Grab  und 

das  meine  nun  ; 
Dann,   um  and'rer  Menschen  Gräber  auch  mit 

Ziegeln  zu  bedecken, 
In   den   Ziegelofen   wird   man   deinen  Staub   und 

meinen  thun. 

See  Appendix  XXXVI. 


164  Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid     Then  said  a  Second —  '•  Ne  \-r  a  peevish  Boy 

(I. xxxv.)     ''  Would  break  the  Bowl  from  which  lie  drank  in 

joy, 
"  And  ll<  that  with  his  hand  the  I  'esse/  made 
"  Will  surely  not  in  after  Wrath  destroy." 


1 


(LXii.)      Another  said  —  '  Why,  ne'er  a  peevish  Boy, 
1859  "  Would  break   the   Howl  from  which  he  drank  in 

J°y  ; 

"  Shall  He  that  made  the  Vessel  in  pure  Love 
"  And  Fansy,  in  an  after  Rage  destroy  !  " 

(XCII.)       Another  said,  "  Why,  ne'er  a  peevish  Boy 
,s,,s         "  Would   break  the  Cup  from  which  he  drank  in 
Joy  ; 
'•  Shall  He  that  of  his  own  free  Fancy  made 
■•  The  Vessel,  in  an  after-rage  destroy  !  " 


Nicolas 
(38) 


Qui  croira  jamais  que  celui  qui  a  confectionné  la 
coupe  puisse  songer  à  la  détruire?  Toutes  ces 
helles  têtes,  tous  ces  beaux  bras,  toutes  ces  mains 
charmantes,  par  quel  amour  ont-ils  été  créés,  et 
par  quelle  haine  sont-ils  détruits  ? 


McCarthy  Who   can   believe  that  he  who  made   the   cup 

(100)         would    dream    of   destroying    it  ?      All    those    fair 

faces,  all  those  lovely  limbs,  all   those  enchanting 

bodies,  what  love   has  made  them,  and  what  hate 

destroys  them  ? 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  165 

Behold  these  cups  !     Can  He  who  deigned  to  make  Whmfield 
them,  (42) 

In  wanton  freak  let  ruin  overtake  them, 

So  many  shapely  feet  and  hands  and  heads,  — 

What  love  drives    Him  to   make,   what  wrath  to 
break  them  ? 

What  man  believes  that  He  who  made  the  Vase        Garner 
Will  sometime  shatter  it  in  Anger  base  ?  (VIII.  s) 

The  Maker  of  these  weak  misguided  Men 
Will  surely  not  in  Wrath  His  Works  efface. 

Wer  glaubt,  dass  seine  eigenen  Geschöpfe  Bodenstedt 

Der  Schöpfertötet  !  — Diese  schöne  Köpfe,  (in.  5) 

Reizvollen  Hand'  und  Füsse  :  schuf  bethört 
Die  Liebe  sie  dass  sie  der  Hass  zerstört  ? 

Lässt  es  denken  sich  ?      Derselbe,  der  des  Bechers  Von  Schack 
Schönheit  schuf,  (61) 

Wie,  ihn  wieder  zu  zerbrechen,  sagt  mir,  findet  er 
Beruf  ? 

Alle  diese  schönen  Köpfe,  alle  diese  zarten  Glieder, 

Welche  Liebe  hat  sie  erschaffen  ?    welcher    Hass 
zerstört  sie  wieder? 

Whinfield,  22  (iSS2),  reads  :  — 
Behold  these  cups,  he  takes  such  pains  to  make  them, 
And  then  enraged  lets  ruin  overtake  them  ; 

So  many  shapely  feet,  and  heads,  and  hands, 
What  love  drives  him  to  make,  what  wrath  to  break  them  ? 

See  Appendix  XXXVI. 


1 66         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald    After  a  momentary  silence  spake 
(LXXXVI.)    Some  Vessel  of  a  more  ungainly  make  ; 
l88g  "  Tiny  sneer  at  me  for  leaning  all  awry  : 

"  What!    did    the   Hand   then    of    the    Potter 
shake  ?  " 


(LXIII.) 

1859 


None  ansvver'd  this  ;  but  after  Silence  spake 
A  Vessel  of  a  more  ungainly  Make  : 

"  They  sneer  at  me  for  leaning  all  awry  ; 
"  What  !  did  the  Hand  then  of  the  Totter  shake  ?" 


Whinfield      The  Master  did  himself  these  vessels  frame, 

(126)  Why  should  he  cast  them  out  to  scorn  and  shame  ? 

If  he  has  made  them  well,  why  should  he  break 
them  ? 
Yea,  though  he  marred  them,  they  are  not  to  blame. 


Nicolas  C'est  toi  qui  disposes  du  sort  des  vivants  et  des 

(436)  morts;  c'est  toi  qui  gouvernes  cette  roue  désor- 
donnée des  cieux.  Bien  que  je  sois  mauvais,  je  ne 
suis  que  ton  esclave,  tu  es  mon  maître  ;  quel  est 
donc  le  coupable  ici-bas?  N'es-tu  pas  le  créateur 
de  tout  ? 


McCarthy  Thou  who  commandest  the  quick  and  the  dead, 

(344)  the  wheel  of  heaven  obeys  thy  hand.     What  if  I 

am  evil,  am  I  not  thy  slave?     Which  then  is  the 
guilty  one  ?     Art  thou  not  lord  of  all  ? 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  167 

Who  framed  the  lots  of  quick  and  dead  but  Thou  ?   Whinfield 
Who   turns   the   troublous   wheel   of   heaven    but  (47i) 

Thou  ? 
Though  we  are  sinful  slaves,  is  it  for  Thee 
To  blame  us  ?     Who  created  us  but  Thou  ? 

Du,  Herr,  bist  der  Lenker  von  Leben  und  Tod,  Bodensteüt 

Es  kreist  Himmel  und  Erde  nach  Deinem  Gebot.  (il.6) 

Wenn  ich  schlecht  als  Dein  Sclav'  bin,  was  kann 

ich  dazu  ? 
Der  Schöpfer  und  Lenker  von  Allem  bist  Du  ! 

Du  bist  der  Gebieter,  du  lenkst  das  Geschick  der  Von  Schack 

Lebenden  und  der  Toten,  (29,) 

Das  rollende   Rad  des  Himmels  kreis't  allein  nach 

deinen  Geboten  ; 
Wohl    bin    ich    schlecht;     doch    schaltest  du  mit 

mir  nach  deinem  Gefallen? 
Kann  Einer  schuldig  auf    Erden    sein?     Bist    du 

nicht  der  meister  von  Allen  ? 


The  first  line  in   the  third   edition   of    Fitzgerald  (XCIII, 
1S68)  reads  :  — 

None  answered  this  ;  but  after  silence  spake. 
Whinfield,  242  (1SS2),  reads  :  — 

Who  framed  the  lots  of  quick  and  dead  but  T/iotc  ? 
Who  turns  the  wheel  of  baleful  fate  but  Thou  ? 

We  are  Thy  slaves,  our  wills  are  not  our  own, 
We  are  Thy  creatures,  our  creator  Thou  ! 

Whinfield,  52  (1SS2),  is  as  follows  :  — 

The  potter  did  himself  these  vessels  frame, 

What  makes  him  cast  them  out  to  scorn  and  shame  ? 

If  he  has  made  them  well,  why  should  he  break  them? 
And  though  he  marred  them,  they  arc  not  to  blame. 


i68         Rut  'ai)  at  oj   Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald      Whereat  some  one  of  the  loquacious  Lot  — 
(Lxxxvn.)  f  think  a  Sûfi  pipkin  -    waxing  hoi  — 

0(J  Ci .///  this  of  J'ot  and  Potter  —  Tell  me  then, 

1009  j 

"  Who  is  the  Potter, pray,  and  who  the  Pot?  " 

(LX.)        And,  strange  to  tell,  among  that  Earthen  Lot 

1859  Some  could  articulate,  while  others  not: 

And  suddenly  one  mure  impatient  cried  — 
"  Who  is  the  Totter,  pray,  and  who  the  Pot?" 

(XCIV.)       Thus  with  the  Dead  as  with  the  Living,  What? 
,368  And  Why?  so  ready,  hut  the  Where/or  not. 

One  on  a  sudden  peevishly  exclaim'd, 
"  Which  is  the  Potter,  pray,  and  which  the  Pot?" 

Nicolas  Hier,   j'ai   visité   l'atelier  d'un  potier;   j'y   ai   vu 

(24.5)  deux    milles  cruches,   les   unes   parlant,   les    autres 

silencieuses.      Chacunes   (Telles  semblait   me   dire: 

"  Où    est  donc     le  potier  ?     Où  est  l'acheteur  de 

cruches?     Où  en  est  le  vendeur?'' 

McCarthy  Yesterday    I   visited   the  workshop  of  a  potter: 

(i,5)         there  I  beheld  two  thousand  pots,  some  speaking, 

and  some  holding  their  peace.     Each  one  seemed 

to  say  to  me,  "  Where  is  then  the  potter,  where  the 

buyer  of  pots,  where  the  seller  ?  " 


M.  K.  To  a  potter's  shop,  yestreen,  I  did  repair  ; 

Two  thousand  dumb  or  chattering  pots  were  there. 
All  turned  to  me,  and  asked  with  speech  distinct  : 
"Who  is't  that  makes,  that  buys,   that  sells  our 
ware  ?  " 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  169 

Once  in  a  potter's  shop,  a  company  "Whinfield 

Of  cups  in  converse  did  I  chance  to  see,  (2S  » 

And  lo  !  one  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  cried, 
-  Who  made,  who  sells,  who  buys  this  crockery  ?" 

Last  Night  into  a  Potter's  Shop  I  strayed,  Garner 

Where  Jars  and  Pots  a  many  were  displayed,  (XI.  4) 

And  All  cried  out  :  where  is  the  Potter  now, 
And  those  who  bought  and  sold,  where  are  they 
laid  ? 

Bei  einem    Töpfer    sah    ich   gestern    zweitausend  Bodenstedt 
Krüge,  (IV.  .6) 

Die  einen  stumm,  die  andern  redend,  als  ob  jeder 
f  rüge  : 

Wer  hat  uns  geformt  und  wo  stammen  wir  her  ? 

Wer  ist  hier  der  Käufer,  und  der  Verkäufer,  wer? 

Gestern  in  des  Töpfers  Werkstatt  sah  ich  hundert  Von  Schack 

Kruge  steh'n  (226) 

Und    mir    war,    durch    ihre    Reihen    hört'    ich    ein 

Geflüster  geh'n  : 
"  Selber    war    ich    einst    ein  Töpfer.  —  Ich,    zum 

Kruge  jetzt  verwandelt, 
Einst  von  dir,  dem  Warenhändler,  hab'  ich  Krüge 

eingehandelt." 

The  second  and  third  lines  of  Whinfield,  1 56  (18S2),  read  :  — 
Of  goodly  cups  and  jars  I  did  espy 

And  when  they  saw  me  one  cried  out  and  said. 

See  Rubaiyât  LXXX1I  and  LXXXIII 

For  FitzGerald's  note  (24),  see  Appendix  XXXVII. 

The  note  No.  (22)  is  missing  in  FitzGerald  LX,  1S59. 


170         Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm. 

FitzGerald     "  Why"  said  another,  "  Some  there  are  who  tell 
(LXXXVIII.)  «  Of  one  who  threatens  he  will  toss  to  Hell 

l889  "  The  luckless  Pots  he  marr\i in  making  —  Pish  ! 

"  He's  a  Good  Fellow,  and  ' t  will  all  be  well." 

(LXIV.)       Said  one  —  "  Folks  of  a  surly  Tapster  tell, 
1859  "And  daub  his  Visage  with  the  Smoke  of  Hell; 

"  They  talk  of  some  strict  Testing  of  us  —  Pish  ! 
"  He's  a  Good  Fellow,  and  'twill  all  be  well." 

(XCV.)       Said  one  —  "  Folks  of  a  surly  Master  tell, 
1868  "And  daub  his  Visage  with  the  Smoke  of  1 1  ell  ; 

"  They  talk  of  some  sharp  Trial  of  us  —  Pish  ! 
"  He's  a  good  Fellow,  and  'twill  all  be  well." 

Nicolas  On  dit   qu'au  jour  dernier  il   y  aura  des  pour- 

('78)         parlers,  et  que  cet  ami  chéri  (Dieu)  se  mettra  en 

colère.     Mais  de  la  bonté  même  il  ne  peut  émaner 

que  le  bien.    Sois  donc  sans  crainte,  car  à  la  fin  tu 

le  verras  plein  de  douceur. 


McCarthy  It  is  said  that  there  will  be  judgment  at  the  last 

U8")         day,  and  that  the  beloved  Friend  will  be  enraged. 

But  from  the  eternal    Goodness,  good   alone  can 

proceed.     Fear  not,  therefore,  for  thou  shalt  find 

mercy  at  the  last. 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  171 

They  say,  when  the  last  trump  shall  sound  its  knell,  Whinfield 
Our  Friend  will  sternly  judge,  and  doom  to  hell.  ^'93' 

Can  aught  but  good  from  perfect  goodness  come  ? 
Compose  your  trembling  hearts,  'twill  all  be  well. 


Gerichte  (II.  3) 

Und    der    Herr    wird    erscheinen    mit    zornigem 

Gesichte 
Doch  vom  Allmächtigen  kann  nichts  kommen  als 

Gutes, 
Darum    fürchte    Dich    nicht,    sondern   sei    guten 

Mutes  ! 

Mann  sagt  :  am  jüngsten  Tag  dereinst  wird  streng  Von  Schack 

Gericht  gehalten  (75) 

Und  droben  unser  Freund  wirft  dann  voll  Zorn  die 

Stirn  in  Falten. 
Doch  kann  wer  gut  ist    Böses    thun?     Wie  lässt 

sich  das  verbinden  ? 
Sei  ohne  Sorge  nur  !  zuletzt  wirst  du  ihn  huldvoll 

finden. 

See  Appendices  XXXIII  and  XXXVIII. 


172         Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     "  Well"  murmur 'ä one,  "  Let  whoso  make  or  buy, 
(LXXXix.)    "My  Clay  with  long  Oblivion  is  gone  dry  : 
1889  "  Hut  Jill  me  with  the  old  familiar  Juice, 

"  Methinks  I  might  recover  by  and  by." 


(F,xv.)        Then  said  another  with  a  Long-drawn  Sigh, 
1859  •'  My  Clay  with  lung  oblivion  is  gone  dry  : 

'•  Hut,  fill  me  with  the  old  Eamiliar  Juice, 
"  Methinks  1  might  recover  by-and-bye  !  " 


(XCVl.)        Well  said  another,  "  Whoso  will,  let  try, 
1868  "  My  Clay  with  long  Oblivion  is  gone  dry: 

"  but,  fill  nie  with  the  old  familiar  Juice, 
"  Methinks  I  might  recover  by-and-bye." 


Nicolas  Lorsque,  la  tête  renversée,  je  serai    tombé  aux 

(290)  pieds  de    la    mort;    lorsque    cet    ange    destructeur 

m'aura  réduit  à  l'état  d'un  oiseau  déplumé,  alors 
gardez-vous  de  faire  de  ma  poussière  autre  chose 
qu'un  flacon,  car  peut-être  le  parfum  du  vin  qu'il 
contiendra  me  fera-t-il  revivre  un  instant. 


McCarthy  When   the   day   arriveth,  when,  with    my   head 

(125)  thrown  back,  I  fall  at  the  feet  of  death,  when  the 

destroying  angel  shall  have  made  me  like  unto  a 
bird  without  feathers  ;  oh,  then,  see  thou  that  of  my 
dust  a  wine-flagon  is  formed  — for  who  can  say  but 
that  the  odour  of  the  wine  may  re-inform  my  clay  ? 


Rubaiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  173 

When  Fate,  at  her  foot,  a  broken  wreck  shall  fling  M.  K. 

me, 
And  when  Fate's  hand,  a  poor  plucked  fowl  shall 

wring  me  ; 
Beware,  of  my  clay,  aught  else  than  a  bowl  to 

make, 
That  the  scent  of  the  wine  new  life  in  time  may 

bring  me  ! 

When  Death  shall  tread  me  clown  upon  the  plain,     Whinfield 
And  pluck  my  feathers,  and  my  life-blood  drain,  (330) 

Then  mould  me  to  a  cup,  and  fill  with  wine  ; 
Haply  its  scent  will  make  me  breathe  again. 

Sink'    ich    häuptlings    dem    Engel   des   Todes   zu  Bodenstedt 
Füssen,  (VII.  6) 

Wie  ein  gerupfter  Vogel  mein  Leben  zu  büssen, 

So  macht  eine  Weinflasche  aus  meinem  Staube; 

Vielleicht   belebt  mich  dann  wieder  der  Geist  der 
Traube. 

Einst  werden  zu  Staube  meine  Glieder,  Von  Schack 

Der  Staub  wird  zu  Krügen  verwandelt  sein  ;  (309) 

Doch,  füllt  man  diese  Krüge  mit  Wein, 

Aufleben  werd'  ich  vor  Freude  wieder. 

The  first  two  lines  of  Whinfield,  175  (1S82),  read  :  — 
When  death  has  trod  to  dit  si  my  lifeless  brain, 
And  shed  my  lively  plumage  on  the  plain. 

See  Appendix  XXXIX. 

23 


174         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâtn. 

FitzGerald    So  while  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were  speaking, 
(XC.)         fjie  little  Moon  look'd  in  that  all  were  seeking: 
1889  j{nci  then   they  jogged  each    other,    "  Brother  ! 

Brother  / 
"  Now  for  the  Porter's  shoulder-knot  a-creaking!  " 

(LXVI.)       So  while  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were  speaking, 
l859  One  spied  the  little  Crescent  all  were  seeking: 

And    then    they   jogg'd    each    other,    "Brother! 
Brother  ! 
"  Hark  to  the  Porter's  Shoulder-knot  a-creakine:  !  " 


(XCVII.)      So  while  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were  speaking, 
1868  One  spied  the  little  Crescent  all  were  seeking25 

And    then    they   jogg'd    each     other,    Brother! 
Brother  ! 
"  Now  for  the  Porter's  shoulder-knot  a-creaking  !  " 


Whinfield      Now  Ramazân  is  past,  Shawwâl  comes  back, 
(218)  And  feast  and  song  and  joy  no  more  we  lack  ; 

The  wine-skin  carriers  throng  the  streets  and  cry, 
"  Here  comes  the  porter  with  his  precious  pack." 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm,         175 

FitzGerald  says  in  his  note  (25)  :  — 

"  At  the  Close  of  the  Fasting  Month,  Ramazan  (which  makes 
the  Mussulman  unhealthy  and  unamiable),  the  first  Glimpse  of 
the  New  Moon  (who  rules  their  division  of  the  Year)  is  looked 
for  with  the  utmost  Anxiety,  and  hailed  with  Acclamation. 
Then  it  is  that  the  Porter's  Knot  may  be  heard  —  toward  the 
Cellar.  Omar  has  elsewhere  a  pretty  Quatrain  about  the  same 
Moon  :  — 

"  Be  of  Good  Cheer  —  the  sullen  Month  will  die, 
"  And  a  young  Moon  requite  us  by  and  by  : 

"  Look  how  the  Old  one  meagre,  bent,  and  wan 
"  With  Age  and  Fast,  is  fainting  from  the  Sky  !  " 
In  the  note  to  the  first  edition  there  is  no  dash,  the  word 
Cellar  is  followed  by  "perhaps";  and  Omar  bears  the  epithet 
Old. 

Compare  the  last  half  of  Nicolas,  94  :  — 
Livre-toi  à  la  joie,  car  ce  même  clair  de  lune  éclairera  bien 
longtemps  encore  (après  nous)  la  surface  de  la  terre. 

McCarthy  47  :  — 

Give  thyself  up  to  joy,  for  this  same  moon  will  illumine  long 
after  us  the  face  of  the  earth. 

FitzGerald  was  capable  of  kindling  from  such  a  meagre,  bent, 
and  wan  original  an  inspiration  like  that  in  the  note. 

Von  Schack,  306,  may  possibly  be  only  a  translation  from 
FitzGerald  :  — 

Schon  naht  der  neue  Mond,  der  tr'ostungsreich 

Der  langen  Fasten  Ende  uns  verkündet; 
Sieh  !  wie  der  alte  mager,  matt  und  bleich 

Von  Nüchternheit  dort  hin  am  Himmel  schwindet  ' 

See  Appendix  XXXV  for  Rubaiyät  referring  to  Ramazân. 


176         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  Life  provide ; 

(XCi.)        And  wash  the  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 
1SS9  And  lay  me,  shrouded  in  the  living  Leaf, 

By  some  not  unfrequented  Garden-side. 

(LXVll.)      Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  Life  provide, 
1859  And  wash  my  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 

And  in  the  Windingsheet  of  Vine-leaf  wrapt, 
So  bury  me  by  some  sweet  Garden-side. 

A 

Nicolas  O  mes  chers  compagnons  !  versez-moi   du  vin,  et 

(109)         par  ce  moyen  rendez  à  mon  visage,  jaune  comme 

l'ambre,  la  couleur  du  rubis.     Quand  je  serai  mort, 

lavez-moi  dans  du  vin,  et  du  bois  de  la  vigne  qu'on 

fasse  mon  brancard  et  mon  cercueil  ! 

McCarthy  Oh,  my  dear  companions,  pour  me  wine  to  make 

(154)  my  countenance  clear   with    the   colour  of  rubies. 

When  I  am  dead,  wash  me  in   wine,  and  make  my 
litter  and  my  coffin  of  the  wood  of  the  vine. 

M.  K.  Let   wine,    gay   comrades,    be    the    food    I  'm    fed 

upon  ;  — 
These  amber  cheeks  its  ruby  light  be  shed  upon  ! 
Wash  me  in  't,  when  I  die  ;  —  and  let  the  trees 
Of  my  vineyard  yield  the  bier  that  I  lie  dead  upon  ! 


Whinfield      Comrades  !   I  pray  you,  physic  me  with  wine, 
(,39)  Make  this  wan  amber  face  like  rubies  shine, 

(76  l8g2)  And,  if  1  die,  use  wine  to  wash  my  corpse, 

And  frame  my  coffin  out  of  planks  of  vine  ! 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  177 

Oh  that  my  Face  the  Brightness  of  this  Wine  Garner 

Might  borrow,  and  when  dead,  this  Clay  of  mine,  —        (V.  10) 

I  pray  Thee  wash  it  with  the  Grape,  then  make 
My  Coffin  of  the  tendrils  of  the  vine. 

O  teure  Genossen  vom  Trinkerorden,  Bodenstedt 

Gelb  wie  Bernstein  ist  mein  Antlitz  geworden,  (IX.  67) 

Bringt  Wein,  um  es  wieder  zu  beleben 

Und  den  Wangen  gesunde  Röte  zu  geben. 
Und  leg'  ich  mich  einst  zum  Sterben  nieder, 

So  wascht  mit  rotem  Wein  meine  Glieder  ; 
Das  Holz  des  Weinstocks  diene  zur  Truhe, 

So  lasst  mich  tragen  zur  ewigen  Ruhe. 

Ihr    Freunde!    füllt    mir   den    Becher    mit    Wein,   Von  Schack 

damit  mein  Herz  nicht  darbe  !  (275) 

Schafft  meinem  blassen  Gesicht  durch   den  Wein 

von  Neuem  Rubinenfarbe, 
Und,  wenn  Ihr  in  Wein  gewaschen  mich  habt,  nach 

meinen  letzten  Geboten, 
In  einem  Sarge  von  Rebenholz  bestattet  dereinst 

den  Toten  ! 


The  second  edition  of  FitzGerald  (XCVIII,  1S6S)  is  the 
same,  except  for  the  2d  line,  which  reads  :  — 

And  wash  my  body  whence  the  Life  has  died. 

See  Appendix  XL. 

In  the  second  edition  (1S6S)  of  FitzGerald  the  above  quatrain 
was  followed  by  one  numbered  XCIX,  afterwards  expunged; 
its  prototype  is  unknown  :  — 

Whither  resorting  from  the  vernal  Heat 

Shall  Old  Acquaintance  Old  Acquaintance  greet, 

Under  the  Branch  that  leans  above  the  l\  all 
To  shed  his  Blossom  over  head  and  feet. 


178         Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

PitzGerald     TJiat  ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  snare 
(XCll.)        Of  Vintage  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air 
1889  As  not  a  True-believer  passing  by 

I)  i/t  shall  be  overtaken  unaware. 

(Lxviii.)      That  ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  Snare 
l859  Of  Perfume  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air, 

As  not  a  True  Believer  passing  by 
But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware. 

Nicolas  Je   veux   boire   tant   et   tant  de  vin  que  l'odeur 

(m)  puisse  en  sortir  de  terre  quand  j'y  serai   rentré,  et 

que    les    buveurs    à   moitié    ivres  de  la  veille  qui 

viendront  visiter  ma  tombe  puissent,  par  l'effet  seul 

de  cette  odeur,  tomber  ivres-morts. 

McCarthy  I  wish  to  drink  so  deep,  so  deep  of  wine  that  its 

(27)  fragrance  may  hang  about  the  soil  where   I  shall 

sleep,  and  that  revellers,  still  dizzy  from  last  night's 

wassail,  shall  on  visiting  my  tomb,  from  its  very 

perfume  fall  dead  drunk. 


Whinfield      So  many  cups  of  wine  will  I  consume, 

O7)  Its  bouquet  shall  exhale  from  out  my  tomb, 

And  every  one  that  passes  by  shall  halt. 
And  reel  and  stagger  with  that  mighty  fume. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  179 

Such  Homage  to  the  Cup  I  e'er  will  pay,  Garner 

That  when  my  Body  in  the  Ground  they  lay,  (I.  16) 

The  Odor  of  my  Wine  will  overcome 
All  those  who  happen  by  my  Tomb  to  stray. 


So  will  ich  berauscht  sein  von  geistiger  Labe, 
Dass  der  Wohlgeruch  mich  überlebt  im  Grabe, 
Und  nur  Halbberauschte  an  meiner  Gruft 
Ganz  trunken  hinsinken,  berauscht  vom  Duft. 


Bodenstedt 

(IX.  4.) 


So  viel  will  ich  trinken,  dass  einst  der  Duft 
Des  Weines  noch  steigt  aus  meiner  Gruft 
Und  die  Zecher,  die  hin  zu  dem  Grabe  wallen, 
Verauscht  von  dem  Dufte  zu  Boden  fallen. 


Von  Schack 

(98) 


See  Appendix  XLI. 

Nicolas  says  :  — 

Ce  quatrain,  qu'on  serait  tenté  de  considérer  comme  essen- 
tiellement épicurien,  s'il  ne  sortait  de  la  plume  de  Khèyam, 
est  cependant  allégorique  et  se  rapporte  à  Dieu.  Notre  poëte 
veut  être  entièrement  absorbé  dans  V amour  divin,  et  servir 
d'exemple  a  ceux  qui  reste?it  après  lui;  il  veut  que,  comme 
lui,  méprisant  les  choses  mondaines,  ils  se  livrent  corps  et  âme 
à  la  seule  chose  ici-bas  digne  de  préoccuper  un  esprit  sage,  à 
la  Divinité. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Omar  was  a  wit,  and  that  Nico- 
las, who  causes  a  nightingale  to  speak  "  in  language  appropriate 
to  the  circumstances,"  was  deficient  in  that  divine  quality.  The 
seriousness  of  Nicolas's  interpretation  only  haltingly  accords 
with  the  extravagant  humor  of  the  conceit. 


i8o  Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald    Indeed  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 

(XCIII.)      Have  done  my  credit  in  this  World  much  wrong, 
1889  Have  drown  d  my  Glory  in  a  shallow  Cup, 

And  sold  my  reputation  for  a  Song. 

(i. xix.)       Indeed  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 
l8S9  Have  done  my  Credit  in  Men's  Eye  much  wrong: 

Have  drown'd  my  Honour  in  a  shallow  Cup, 
And  sold  my  Reputation  tor  a  Song. 


Nicolas 
(-42 


Une  fois  dans  la  taverne  on  ne  peut  faire  ses 
ablutions  qu'avec  du  vin.  Là,  quand  un  nom  est 
souillé,  il  ne  saurait  être  réhabilité.  Apporte  donc 
du  vin,  puisque  le  voile  de  notre  pudeur  est  déchiré 
de  manière  à  ne  pouvoir  être  réparé. 


McCarthy  Once    thou    art    in    the    tavern,  thou  canst  only 

(2S7)  make  thy  ablutions  with   wine.     When  thy  name 

hath  once  been  befouled  there,  thou  canst  not  again 
cleanse  it.  Bring  hither  the  wine  therefore,  since 
the  covering  of  our  shame  hath  been  torn  beyond 
repair. 


Whinfield      Needs  must  the  tavern-haunter  bathe  in  wine, 
(165)  por  none  can  make  a  tarnished  name  to  shine  ; 

Go  !  bring  me  wine,  for  none  can  now  restore 
Its  pristine  sheen  to  this  soiled  veil  of  mine. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  181 

In  der  Schenke  macht  man  seine  Waschungen  mit  Bodenstedt 
Wein,  (IX.  74) 

Doch   ein  befleckter  Ruf   wird  dort    nicht  wieder 
rein  ; 

Wir  erfuhren  das  selber  längst  ohne  Überraschung  ; 

Bringt  Wein  her,  wir  fahren  fort  in  der  Waschung  ! 

Hier  in  der  Schenke,  mit  Wein  allein  wird  hier  die   Von  Schack 
Waschung  gehalten,  (279) 

Verloren  bin  ich  nun  doch  einmal  ;  so  bleib'  es  denn 
auch  bei'm  Alten  ! 

Bring    Wein  !    bring   Wein  !  der    Scham    und  der 
Scheu  hab'  ich  mich  doch  entledigt, 

Und  meinen   Ruf  stellt  nichts  mehr  her,  er  ist  zu 
tief  geschädigt. 

Line  2  in  FitzGerald's  2d  edition  (CI,  1868)  reads  ;  — 
Have  done  my  credit  in  Men'1  s  eye  much  wrongs 
See  Appendix  XLII  ;  also  Rubâiyât  in  Preface. 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald 
(XC1V.) 

iSSg 
(LXX.) 

i859 

McCarthy 
(,2) 


Whinfleld 

(42s) 


Nicolas 
(133) 


McCarthy 
(255) 


Indeed,  indeed.  Repentance  oft  before 
I  swore  —  but  was  I  sober  when  J  swore  f 
And  then  and  then  came  Spring,  and  Rose-in- 

hand 
My  thread-bare  Penitence  apieces  tore. 

Every  morn  I  say  this  shall  be  the  night  of 
repentance,  repentance  from  the  flagon,  and  from 
the  bowl  brimming  over,  repentance.  Yet  now 
that  the  season  of  roses  has  come  set  me  free  in 
the  time  of  the  rose  from  repentance,  O  Lord  of 
repentance. 

Each  morn  I  say,  "To-night  I  will  repent 
Of  wine,  and  tavern  haunts  no  more  frequent  ;  " 
But  while  't  is  spring,  and  roses  are  in  bloom, 
To  loose  me  from  my  promise,  O  consent  ! 

Compare  also  : 

Ne  renonces  pas  à  boire  du  vin,  si  tu  en  possèdes, 
car  cent  repentirs  suivent  une  pareille  résolution.  Les 
roses  déchirent  leurs  corolles,  les  rossignols  remplissent 
l'air  de  leurs  chants,  serait-il  raisonnable  de  renoncer  à 
boire  dans  un  semblable  moment  ? 

Do  not  forswear  the  juice  of  the  vine  if  you  have  any 
store  thereof.  For  many  a  repenting  sign  will  follow 
such  a  sacrifice.  The  roses  shed  their  petals,  the  night- 
ingales cast  their  songs  abroad  upon  the  air:  would  it 
be  wise  in  such  an  hour  to  forswear  the  flagon  ? 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  183 

Lorsque  ma  nature  m'a  paru  disposée  à  la  prière  et  Nicolas 
au  jeûne,  j'ai    un   instant   espéré  que  j'allais  atteindre  (162) 

le  but  de  tous  mes  désirs  ;  mais,  hélas  !  un  vent  a  suffi 
pour  détruire  l'efficacité  de  mes  ablutions,  et  une  demi- 
gorgée  de  vin  est  venue  mettre  à  néant  mon  jeûne. 

What  time  my  being  seemed    to  lean  to  prayer  and   McCarthy- 
fasting,  I  deemed  for  a  moment  that  I  was   about   to  (,i3) 
touch  the  goal  of  my  desires  ;  but,   alas,  a  breath  has 
sufficed  to  destroy  the  efficacy  of  my  ablutions,  and  a 
half  measure  of  wine  has  set  my  fasts  aside. 

Zu  Fasten  fühlt'  ich  und  zu  Gebet  mich  jüngst  gedrängt    Von  Schack 

und  dachte  :  vielleicht  (2?S) 

Wird  nun  das  ewige  Heil  von  mir,  nach  dem  ich  seit 

lang  mich  gesehnt,  erreicht  ; 
Allein  ein  Windhauch  hat  das  Gebet  alsbald  mir  auf 

den  Lippen  verweht, 
Ein  halber  Weinschluck,  eh'  ich's  gedacht,  mein  Fasten 

all  zu  nichte  gemacht. 

See  Appendix  XLIII. 


184         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     And  much  as  Wine  has  play  'd  the  Infidel, 
(XCV.)       And  robb 'd  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour —  Well, 
1889  j  wonder  often  what  the  Vintners  buy 

One  half  so  precious  as  the  stuff  they  sell. 

(Lxxi.)      And  much  as  Wine  has  play'd  the  Infidel, 
'859         And  robb'd  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour  —  well, 
I  often  wonder  what  the  Vintners  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  Goods  they  sell. 

(CHI.)        And  much  as  Wine  has  play'd  the  Infidel, 

And  robbed  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour — well, 

I  often  wonder  what  the  Vintners  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  ware  they  sell. 

Nicolas  Depuis  le  jour  où  Vénus  et  la  lune  apparurent 

(463)  dans  le  ciel,  personne  n'a  rien  vu  ici-bas  de  pré- 
férable au  vin  en  rubis.  Je  suis  vraiment  étonné 
de  voir  les  marchands  de  vin,  car  que  peuvent-ils 
acheter  de  supérieur  à  ce  qu'ils  vendent? 


M-  K-  Since  the  Moon  and  the  Star  of  Eve  first  shone  on 

high, 
Naught   has  been  known   with  ruby  Wine   could 
vie  : 
Strange,  that  the  vintners  should  in  traffic  deal  ! 
Better  than  what  they  sell,  what  could  they  buy? 


Rubdiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  185 

While  Moon  and  Venus  in  the  sky  shall  dwell,  Whinfield 

None  shall  see  aught  red  grape-juice  to  excel:  (2o8) 

O  foolish  publicans,  what  can  you  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  goods  you  sell  ? 

Since  Venus  and  the  Moon  have  cheered  the  Sky,     Garner 
Naught  have  Men  seen  with  Purple  Wine  to  vie  ;  (VI.  14) 

What  half  so  precious  as  this  sparkling  Juice, 
Can  these  same  thoughtless  Vintners  buy  ? 

Seit  der  Mond  und  Venus  am  Himmel  stehn,  Bodenstedt 

Ward  auf  Erden  nicht  Edleres  als  Wein  gesehn.  (lX-  3) 

Der  Weinhändler  ist  ein  erstaunlicher  Mann, 
Da  er  Bessres  verkauft  als  er  kaufen  kann. 

The  first  two  lines  of  Whinfield,  115  (1882),  read  :  — 
While  moon  and  constant  stars  in  heaven  dwell, 
No  starlike  ruby  can  bright  wine  excel  ; 

See  Appendix  XLIV. 


i86         Rubàiyàt  <>f  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGeraid      Yet Ah,  that  Spring  should  vanish  with  the  Rose! 
(XÇV1  )       ThatYouth's  sweet-scented  manuscript  should  dose  ! 
i88q  ^l€  Nightingale  tltat  in  tin-  brain  Ins  sang, 

Ah  whence,  and  whither  flown  again,  who  know*  ' 

(i.xxii.)      Alas,  that  Spring  should  vanish  with  the  Rose  ! 

That    Youth's    sweet-scented     Manuscript    should 
close  ! 
The  Nightingale  that  in  the  Branches  sang, 
Ah,  whence,  and  whither  Sown  again,  who  knows! 

M-  K-  Ah!  that  young  Life  should  close  its  volume  bright 

away  ! 
Mirth's  springtime  green,  that  it  should  pass  from 
sight  away  ! 
Ah  !  for  the  Bird  of  Joy  whose  name  is  Youth  : 
We  know  not  when  she  came,  nor  when  took  flight 
away  '. 

Now  is  the  volume  of  my  youth  outworn, 
And  all  my  spring-tide  blossoms  rent  and  torn. 
Ah,  bird  of   youth  !      I    marked    not    when   you 
came, 
Nor  when  you  fled,  and  left  me  thus  forlorn. 

My  Manuscript  of  Youth  has  dusty  grown, 
The  Roses  of  My  Spring  will  soon  be  blown, 

The  joyful  Bird  of  Youth  that  hovered  near,  — 
I  know  not  Whence  it  came,  nor  Whither  flown. 

Von  Schack  Nun  ist  der  Lenz  geschwunden  mit  der  Rose, 
(62)  Der  Jugend  schönes  Buch  zu  Ende  schon  ; 

Die  Nachtigall  mit  ihrem  Liedgekose 

Wo  kam  sie  her  ?  wohin  ist  sie  entfloh'n  ? 


Whinfleld 
(■55) 


Garner 
(VII.  6) 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  1S7 


Compare  also  :  — 

Hélas  !  le  décret  de  notre  adolescence,  touche  à  son   Nicolas 
terme  !     Le  frais  printemps  de  nos  plaisirs  s'est  écoulé  !  (l28) 

Cet  oiseau  de  la  gaieté  qui  s'appelle  la  jeunesse,  hélas', 
je  ne  sais  ni  quand  il  est  venu,  ni  quand  il  s'est  envolé. 

Alas,  the  season  of  my  youth  decays,  the  kindly  Spring   McCarthy 
of  our  delights  goes  by,  and  that  delightful  bird,  whose  (223) 

name  is  Youth,  has  flown.    It  came,  I  know  not  whence, 
and  goes,  I  know  not  whither. 


Ach,  des  Lebens  Mai  naht  dem  Ziele, 

Vorbei  sind  die  Freuden  und  Spiele  ! 
Dieser  Vogel  der  Fröhlichkeit 

Genannt  die  Jugendzeit, 
Schwang  fort  sein  Gefieder, 

Und  kommt  nicht  wieder! 
Ich  weiss  nicht,  wann  er  gekommen,  — 

Und  wohin  den  Weg  er  genommen. 


Bodenstedt 
(VI.  4) 


Schon  schwindet  mein  Leben  nach  und  nach  ;  Von  Schack 

Der  blühende  Frühling  der  Freuden,  im  Welken  ist  er  (l82) 

schon  ; 
î  »as  muntere  Vöglein  Jugend,  ach  ! 

Nicht  weiss  ich,  wie  es  gekommen,  noch  wie  es  plötz- 
lich entfloh  'n. 

Whinfield,  86  (1882),  has,  in  line  2,  springtide's  blossoms 
lines  2  and  3  read,  how  you  came,  Nor  how  you  fled. 
See  Rubâ'iy  VII,  p.  14. 


[SS 


Rubàiyât  oj   Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Would  but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain  yield 
(XCVII.)      One  glimfse      if  dimly,  yet  indeed,  reveafd, 
«88g  p0  whüh  the  fainting   Traveller  might  spring, 

As  springs  the  trampled  herbage  oj  the  field  I 

(CV.)         Would  but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain  yield 
1868         One  glimpse       it  dimly,  yet  indeed  reveal'd 

Toward   which    the    fainting    Traveller    might 
spring, 
As  springs  the  trampled  herbage  of  the  field  ! 

Nicolas  Oh  !  plût  à   Dieu  qu'il  existât  un   lieu    de   n  pos, 

(400)         qUe    le  chemin    (pie    nous   suivons    y   pût    aboutir. 

Plût  a  Dieu  qu'après  cent  raille  ans  nous  pussions 

concevoir  l'espérance   de  renaître   du   cœur   de  la 

terre,  comme  renaît  le  vert  gazon  ! 

McCarthy         -Oh,  would  that  there  were  a  place  to  rest,  that 
(440)  by  this    road   we    might    arrive  :    oh,    that    after  a 

hundred  thousand  years  we  might  arise  anew  from 
the  heart  of  the  earth  like  the  green  grasses. 


Whinfield      Ah  !  would  there  were  a  place  of  rest  from  pain, 
(442)  Which  we,  poor  pilgrims,  might  at  last  attain, 

And  after  many  thousand  wintry  years. 
Renew  our  life,  like  flowers,  and  bloom  again  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  189 

O  wollte  Gott,  es  gab'  einen  Ort  voll  Frieden,  Bodenstedt 

Und   wir  fänden    den   richtigen   Weg  schon  hie-        (V  36) 

nieden  !    . 
Wollte  Gott,  wir  könnten  einst  aus  dem  Staube 
Auferstehen     gleich     dem    frischen     Rasen     und 

Laube  ! 

O  fände  irgendwo  das  Herz  nur  eine  Ankerstätte!  Von  Schack 
O   dass   der    Mensch    zum   mindesten    die    Eine  ('70) 

Aussicht  hätte, 
Einst  -  möchten  bis  dahin  auch  zehn  Jahrtausende 

verfliesen  — 
Gleich  diesem    Rasen  neu  dem  Schoss   der  Erde 

zu  entspriessen. 


Whinfield,   229    (1SS2),   has    no  commas    separating  poor 

pilgrims,  and  the  last  line  begins,  Renew  our  youth. 


24 


iço         Rubàiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGeraid     Would  but  some  winged  Angel  ere  too  late 
(xcv  1 1 1 .)     A  rrest  the  yet  unfolded  Roll  of  Fate, 
1889  And  make  the  stern  Recorder  otherwise 

Enregister,  or  quite  obliterate  ! 

(cvi.)        Oh  if  the  World  were  but  to  re-create, 
1868  That  we  might  catch  ere  closed  the  Book  of  Kate, 

And  make  The  Writer  on  a  fairer  leaf 
Inscribe  our  names,  or  quite  obliterate  ! 

Nicolas  Je  voudrais  que  Dieu  reconstruisît  le  monde,  je 

(457)  voudrais  qu'il  le  reconstruisît  actuellement,  pour 
ce  que  je  pusse  voir  Dieu  à  l'œuvre.  Je  voudrais 
qu'il  effaçât  mon  nom  du  bulletin  de  la  vie,  ou  que 
de  son  trésor  mystérieux  il  augmentât  mes  moyens 
d'existence. 

McCarthy  I    would  that  God  rebuilt  the  world  anew,  and 

(44*)  that  I  might  see  the  work  begun.  I  would  that 
God  blotted  my  name  from  the  roll  of  life,  or  of 
his  bounty  made  life  seem  more  fair. 


M.  K. 


I    would   God   were    this   whole   world's   scheme 
renewing, 

—  And  now  !  at  once  !  that  I  might  see  it  doing  ! 
That  either  from  His  roll  my  name    were    can- 
celled, 

Or  luckier  days  for  me  from  Heaven  accruing  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  191 

I  wish  that  Allah  would  rebuild  these  skies,  "Whinfield 

And  earth,  and  that  at  once,  before  my  eyes,  (486) 

And  either  raze  my  name  from  off  his  roll, 
Or  else  relieve  my  dire  necessities. 

Ich  wollte,  Gott  schüfe  die  Welt  auf's  Neu',  Bodenstedt 

Gleich  jetzt  ;  dann  bat'  ich  ihn  ohne  Scheu  :  (x-  31) 

Mich  ganz  aus  dem  Buche  des  Lebens  zu  streichen, 
Oder  mir  bessere  Mittel  zum  Leben  zu  reichen. 

Schüfe  Gott  die  Welt  auf's  Neu  doch,  dass  sie       Von  Schack 
nicht  der  jetz'gen  gliche  !  (238) 

Möcht'  er  doch  mich  zuschau'n  lassen,  dass  ich 
sähe  wie  er's  macht  ! 
O    dass   in   des     Lebens    Buche    dann  er   meinen 
Namen  striche, 
Oder  bess'res   Los  mir  gönnte,  als  er  jetzt  mir 
zugedacht  ! 

Whinfield,  251  (1SS2),  reads:  — 

Allah  !  rebuild  flic  world  in  fairer  guise, 
And  do  it  on  the  spot  before  my  eyes, 

And  either  raze  my  name  from  Thy  roll 
Or  make  me  better,  happier,  more  wise. 


1 92  Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald     Ah  Love',   could 'you  and  1 with  Him  am  spire 
(XCIX.)       To  grasp  this  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire, 
1889  Would  not  we  shatter  it  to  bits  —  and  then 

Re-mould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  desire  ! 


(LXXill.)     Ah  Love!  could  thou  and  I  with  Fate  conspire 
■859         To  grasp  this  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire, 
Would  not  we  shatter  it  to  bits  —  and  then 
Re-mould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  Desire  ! 


Nicolas  Si   je  possédais  sur  les  cieux  la   puissance  que 

(340)         Dieu  y  exerce,  je  les  supprimerais  de  ce  monde,  et 

j'en   construirais   d'autres   à    ma    façon,    ahn    que 

l'homme  libre  pût  ici-bas  atteindre  sans  difficulté 

les  désirs  de  son  cœur. 


McCarthy  If    I,  like  God,  were   master  of  the  heavens,   I 

(378)  would  blot  them  from  the  world,  and  fashion  new 
skies  beneath  which  free  man  might  gain  his 
heart's  desire. 


M.  K.  If  I  like  God  o'er  Heaven's  high  fate  could  reign, 

I  'd  sweep  away  the  present  Heaven's  domain, 

And  from  its  ruins  such  a  new  one  build 
That  an  honest  heart  its  wish  could  aye  attain  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyàm.  193 

Had  I  the  power  great  Allah  to  advise,  Whinfield 

I  'd  bid  him  sweep  away  this  earth  and  skies,  (379) 

And  build  a  better,  where,  unclogged  and  free, 
The  clear  soul  might  achieve  her  high  emprise. 

Oh  that  to  Heaven's  Control  I  might  aspire,  Garner 

And  sweep  away  this  Universe  Entire,  (II- 8) 

Then  from  the  Ruins  build  another  World, 
Where   Man  might  sometimes   reach  his    Heart's 
Desire. 

Könnt'  ich  walten  wie  Gott  im  Himmelszelt,  Bodenstedt 

Ich  hätt'  es  schon  längst  auf  den  Kopf  gestellt,  (v-  25) 

Um  ein  andres  zu  bauen,  wie  ich  es  verstehe, 
Welches  ganz  nach  den  Wünschen  der  Menschen 
sich  drehe. 

Wenn   Gott   die    Macht,   die    selbst   er    hat,   mir  Von  Schack 
gönnte,  (") 

Die  jetz'ge  Welt  würd'  ich  alsbald  vernichten, 

Und  eine  andere  daraus  errichten, 
Darin  der  Mensch  nach  Wunsche  leben  könnte. 


The  first  line  of  FitzGerald's  second  edition  (CVIII,  1S6S) 
reads  :  — 

Ah  Love  !  could  you  and  I  with  fate  conspire. 

Whinfield,    200   (1882),    reads:    Had   I    the     right  .  .  .  I 
would  bid  .  .  .    The  clear  soul  might  essay  her  high  emprise. 


194         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

FitzGerald      Yon  rising  Moon  that  looks  for  us  again  — 
(C.)  How  oft  hereafter  will  she  wax  and  -cane  ; 

18S9  How  oft  lie  re  after  rising  look  for  us 

Through  this  sann  Garden  — and  for  one  in  vain  ? 

(LXXIV.)      Ah,  Moon  of  ray  Delight  who  know'st  no  wane, 
,859  The  Moon  of  Heav'n  is  rising  once  again  : 

How  oft  hereafter  rising  shall  she  look 
Through  this  same  Garden  after  me  —  in  vain  ! 

(Cix.)        But  see  !     The  rising  Moon  of  Heav'n  again 
1868  Looks  for  us,  Sweet-heart,  through  the  quivering 

Plane  : 
How  oft  hereafter  rising  will  she  look 
Amonç  those  leaves  —  for  one  of  us  in  vain  ! 


Nicolas 

(8) 


Puisque  personne  ne  saurait  te  répondre  du  jour 
de  demain,  empresse-toi  de  réjouir  ton  cœur  plein 
de  tristesse;  bois,  ô  lune  adorable  !  bois  dans  une 
coupe  vermeille,  car  la  lune  du  firmament  tournera 
bien  longtemps  (autour  de  la  terre),  sans  nous  y 
retrouver. 


McCarthy  Since  no  man  dares  play  prophet  for  to-morrow, 

(9)  hasten  to  lift  thy  heavy-laden  heart.      Drain,  O  de- 

lightful Moon,  a  crimson  cup,  for  heaven's  moon 
will  turn  a  weary  while  and  fail  to  find  us. 

M.  K.  Since  none  can  be  our  surety  for  to-morrow, 

Sweeten,  my  love,  thy  heart  to-day  from  sorrow  : 

Drink  wine,  fair  Moon,  in  wine-light,  for  the  moon 
Will  come  again,  and  miss  us,  many  a  morrow  ! 


Rubàiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.  195 

Since  no  one  can  assure  thee  of  the  morrow,  Whinfield 

Rejoice  thy  heart  to-day,  and  banish  sorrow  (7) 

With  moonbright  wine,  fair  moon,  for  heaven's 
moon 
Will  look  for  us  in  vain  on  many  a  morrow. 

Ah,  since  the  Future's  Riddles  none  can  guess.         Garner 
Come  fill  the  Cup,  the  Cup  that  drowns  Distress,  (V.  8) 

Ah,  Love,  yon  Moon  will  often  rise  again, 
Will  rise  and  miss  us  in  Her  loneliness. 

To-morrow  rank  and  fame  for  none  may  be,  (3) 

So  for  to-day  thy  weary  soul  set  free  ; 

Drink   with    me,   love,   once  more   beneath    the 
moon  ; 
She  oft  may  shine  again,  but  not  on  thee  and  me. 

Da  die  Tage  uns'res   Lebens  rasch  und   unauf-      Von  Schack 

haltsam  schwinden,  (g6) 

Da,  ob  morgen  noch  wir  atmen,  keiner  uns  vermag 

zu  künden, 
Lass,  o  du  mein  Mond,  uns  froh  sein  !     Ach  der 

Mond  da  droben  wird 
Oft  noch  um  die  Erde  kreisen,  ohne  uns  auf  ihr  zu 

finden  ! 


Line  3  of  Whinfield,  2  (1SS2),  begins  :  With  sparkling  wine. 
See  Appendix  I. 


196         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

PitzGerald     And  when  like  her,  oh  Sâki,you  shall  pass 
(CI.)         Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter 'd  on  the  Grass, 
j889  And  in  your  joyous  errand  reach  the  spot 

Where  I  made  One  —  turn  down  an  empty  Glass  ! 

TAMÂM. 

(Lxxv.)      And  when  Thyself  with  shining  Foot  shall  pass 
,859  Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter'd  on  the  Grass, 

And  in  thy  joyous  Errand  reach  the  Spot 
Where  I  made  one  —  turn  down  an  empty  Glass  ! 

TAMÄM    SHUD. 


(CI.) 
1872 


Nicolas 

(-92) 


McCarthy 
(104) 


M.  K. 


And  when  Yourself  with  silver  Foot  shall  pass 
Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter'd  on  the  Grass, 

And  in  your  blissful  errand  reach  the  spot 
Where*  I  made  One  —  turn  down  an  empty  Glass  ! 

TA. M  A.M. 

O  amis  !  convenez  d'un  rendez-vous  (après  ma 
mort).  Une  fois  réunis,  réjouissez-vous  d'être 
ensemble,  et,  lorsque  l'échanson  prendra  dans  sa 
main  une  coupe  de  vin  vieux,  souvenez-vous  du 
pauvre  Khèyam  et  buvez  à  sa  mémoire. 

O,  my  friends,  when  I  am  sped,  appoint  a  meet- 
ing and  when  ye  have  met  together,  be  ye  glad 
thereof,  and  when  the  cup-bearer  holds  in  her  hand 
a  flagon  of  old  wine,  then  think  upon  old  Khayyam 
and  drink  to  his  memory. 

Appoint  ye  a  tryst,  happy  comrades,  anon  ! 

And  when  —  as  your  revel  in  gladness  comes  on  — 

The  Saki  takes  goblet  in  hand,  oh  !  remember, 
And  bless,  while  you  drink,  the  poor  fellow  that 's 
gone  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         19  7 

Comrades  !  when  e'er  ye  meet  together  here,  Whinfield 

Recall  your  friend  to  mind,  and  drop  a  tear  ;  (234) 

And  when  the  circling  wine-cups  reach  his  seat, 
Pray  turn  one  upside  down  his  dust  to  cheer. 

O  meine  Freunde,  gelobt,  einst  munter  Euch  Bodenstedt 

Hier  zu  versammeln,  wenn   ich  nicht   mehr  unter        (ix.  s) 

Euch, 
Den  Pokal  voll  alten  Weins  zu  schenken 
Und  trinkend  des  armen  Chajjam  zu  gedenken. 

Wenn  ich  gestorben  bin,  in  unser  Weinhaus  lenkt  Von  Schack 
Die    Schritte    noch    einmal,    Ihr     Freunde,    und  (**) 

gedenkt, 
Indess   voll   alten    Weins    der    Wirt    die    Gläser 

schenkt, 
Des  armen  Chijam,  den  sie  in  das  Grab  gesenkt. 

In  FitzGerald's  first  draught  of  edition  III  he  changed  Foot  to 
step.     In  CX  (1868)  the  third  line  has  joyous  errand. 
Whinfield,  112  (1882),  reads:  — 

When  the  sad  day  of  Khayyam's  death  comes  round 
Let  your  regrets,  O  friends,  in  wine  be  drowned; 
And  when  the  wine  cups  reach  his  vacant  seat, 
Let  one  deep  draught  be  poured  upon  the  ground. 
"Tamam"  means  entirely,  hence  end;  "  tamâm   shud" 
means  it  is  completed. 

Whinfield  205  is  a  variant  of  234  :  — 

O  comrades  dear,  when  hither  ye  repair 
In  times  to  come,  communion  sweet  to  share, 

While  tht  cupbearer  pours  your  old  Magh  wine, 
Call  poor  Khayyam  to  mind,  and  breathe  a  prayer. 


RUBAIYAT  WHICH  WERE  INCLUDED  IN  THE 
SECOND  EDITION  (1868),  BUT  OMITTED  FROM 
SUBSEQUENT   EDITIONS. 


FitzGerald     Were  it  not  Folly,  Spider-like  to  spin 

(Xiv.)        The  Thread  of  present  Life  away  to  win  — 
1868  What?  for  ourselves,  who  know  not  if  we  shall 

Breathe  out  the  very  Breath  we  now  breathe  in  ! 


Nicolas 
(366) 


Jusques  à  quand  m'infligerai-je  le  souci  de  savoir 
si  je  possède  ou  si  je  ne  possède  pas  ?  si  je  dois  ou 
si  je  ne  dois  pas  passer  gaiement  la  vie  ?  Remplis 
toujours  une  coupe  de  vin,  ô  échanson  !  car 
j'ignore  si  j'expirerai  ou  non  ce  souffle  qu'actuelle- 
ment j'aspire. 


McCarthy  How  long  shall  I  vex  me  with  the  have  or  have- 

(465)         not,  with  wondering  if  I  should  or  should  not  pass 

life  pleasantly?     Nay,  fill  the  cup,  my  cup-bearer, 

for  in  truth  I  know  not  if  I  shall  breathe  out  the 

breath  I  now  breathe  in. 


Whinfield    Shall  I  still  sigh  for  what  I  have  not  got, 
(4")         Or  try  with  cheerfulness  to  bear  my  lot? 

Fill  up  my  cup  !  I  know  not  if  the  breath 
I  now  am  drawing  is  my  last,  or  not  ! 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam.         199 

Wie  lange  soll  mich  der  Zweifel  bedräuen,  Bodenstedt 

Ob  ich  habe  oder  nicht  ?  (vin-  6?) 

Ob  ich  des  Lebens  mich  soll  erfreuen 

Als  guter  Gabe,  oder  nicht  ? 
Füll'  mir  den  Becher  mit    Wein,  denn   ich   weiss 

nicht, 
Ob  dieser  Atemzug  jetzt   führt  zum   Grabe,  oder 
nicht. 

Wie  lang  noch   über  was  ich  bin  soll   sich  mein  Von  Schack 

armer  Kopf  zerbrechen  ?  (102) 

Wie  lang  noch  von  Enthaltsamkeit  und  Mässigung 

mir  wollt  ihr  sprechen  ? 
Ich  weiss  nicht,  ob  den  Atemzug,  den  jetzt  ich 

thue,  auszuthun 
Vergönnt  mir  ist  ;  so  lang  ich 's  kann,  o  Schenke, 

lass  darum  mich  zechen  ! 


200         Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm. 

FitzGerald     If  but  the  Vine  and  Love-abjuring  Band 
(LXV.)        /ire  in  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  stand, 
1868  Alack,  I  doubt  the  Prophet's  Paradise 

Were  empty  as  the  hollow  of  one's  Hand. 

Nicolas  On  affirme  qu'il  y  aura,  qu'il  y  a  même  un  enfer. 

(64)  C'est  une  assertion  erronée  ;  on  ne  saurait  y  ajouter 

foi,  car,  s'il  existait  un  enfer  pour  les  amoureux  et 

les  ivrognes,  le  paradis  serait,  dès   demain,  aussi 

vide  que  le  creux  de  ma  main. 

McCarthy  Folk   say    that   there   is   a  hell.     This  is  a  vain 

(13O  error,    in   which    no  trust  should  be  placed,  for  if 

there  were  a  hell  for  lovers  and  bibbers  of  wine,  why  ■ 
heaven  would  be,  from  to-morrow  morn,  as  empty 
as  the  hollow  of  my  hand. 

Whinfield      Drunkards  are  doomed  to  hell,  so  men  declare, 
(67)  Believe  it  not,  't  is  but  an  empty  scare; 

Heaven  will  be  empty  as  this  hand  of  mine, 
If  none  who  love  good  drink  find  entrance  there. 


Garner  With  Tales  of  future  pains  men  threaten  me, 

(I.  19)         They  say  there  is  a  Hell  in  store  for  thee  ;  — 
Love,  if  there  is  a  Hell  for  all  like  us, 
Their  Heaven  as  empty  as  my  Palm  will  be. 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  201 

Man  behauptet,  dass  eine  Hölle  sei  Bodenstedt 

Und  kommt  zu  mir  und  droht  damit.  (n-  ") 

Ich  halte  die  Hölle  für  Narretei. 

Drum  hab1  ich  keine  Not  damit. 
Denn  gab'  es  wirklich  ein  solch  Verliess 

Für  der  verliebten  Trinker  Heer, 
So  wäre  morgen  das  Paradies. 

Wie  meine  hohle  Hand  so  leer. 

Von    einer    Hölle    spricht   man    mir,    in    die    ich  Von  Schack 

kommen  würde,  (176) 

Doch  glaub'  ich's  nicht,  ob  schwer  gedrückt  auch 

von  der  Sünden  Bürde, 
Denn,  gab'  es  für  verliebtes  Volk  und  Trinker  eine 

Hölle, 
Leer  würde,  wie  meine  hohle  Hand,  der  Himmel 

ja  zur  Stelle. 


Wh  in  field,  33  (1S82),  reads  :  — 

If  wine  be  an  unpardonable  sin, 
God  help  Khayyam  and  his  wine-bibbing  kin  ! 
If  all  poor  drouthy  souls  be  lodged  elsewhere. 
Heaven'' s  plains  must  be  as  bare  as  maiden'' s  chin. 

For  a  somewhat  similar  Rubâ'iy,  see  Appendix  XLV. 


202 


Rubâiyât  of  Omar  Khayyam. 


FitzGerald     Better,  oh  better,  cancel  from  the  Scroll 
(CVll.)        Of  Universe  one  luckless  Human  Soul, 
1868  Than  drop  by  drop  enlarge  the  Flood" that  rolls 

Hoarser  with  A  nguish  as  the  Ages  roll. 

Nicolas  O  mon  pauvre  cœur  !  puisque  ton  sort  est  d  être 

(25)  meurtri  jusqu'au  sang  par  le   chagrin,    puisque   ta 

nature  veut  que  tu  sois  chaque  jour  accablé  d'un 
nouveau  tourment,  alors,  ô  âme  !  dis-moi  ce  que 
tu  es  venue  faire  dans  mon  corps,  dis,  puisque  tu 
dois  enfin  le  quitter  un  jour  ? 

McCarthy  O,    my   sad  soul,   since    it  is  your  destiny  to  be 

(54)  pierced  to  the  quick  by  sorrow,  since  Nature  bids 

that  you  shall  be  troubled  every  day  with  a  new 
torment,  therefore,  O  my  soul,  tell  me  why  you  took 
up  your  abode  in  my  body,  seeing  that  you  must 
one  day  quit  it? 

Whinfield      O  soul  !  whose  lot  it  is  to  bleed  with  pain, 
(29)  And  daily  change  of  fortune  to  sustain, 

Into  this  body  wherefore  didst  thou  come, 
Seeing  thou  must  at  last  2:0  forth  aeain? 


Bodenstedt    O  du  armes  Herz,  das  sich  blutig  quält, 

(v-  43)         Weil  Dir  keinen  Tag  Fülle  des  Unglücks  fehlt, 
Sag,  Seele,  was  führte  Dich  in  meine  Brust, 
Die  Du  doch  bald  wieder  verlassen  musst  ? 


Rubâiyàt  of  Omar  Khayyâm.  203 

O  mein  armes  Herz,  da  täglich  neue  Trübsal  dich  Von  Shack 

zerreisst,  <28) 

Da  in  ruhelosem  Wandel  Alles  um  dich  wankt  und 

kreis't, 
Sprich,  warum  in  diesem  Körper,  den   von  Neuem 

—  und  wie  bald  !  — 
Zu  verlassen  dir  verhängt    ist,  nahmst  du  deinen 

Aufenthalt  ? 

In  Whinfield,  14  (18S2),  line  2  has,  daily  blows  of  fortune  ; 
line  4  reads  :  — 

Seeing  thoit  must  so  soon  depart  again. 
See  Appendix  XLVI. 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Diego 

DATE  DUE 


IG  18  1977 

AUG  0  8  1977 

J  UN  05  1978 

CI  39 

UCSD  Libr. 

UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001317  743 


